Love's Labours Lost
by Stella
Summary: AU;A crossover w/characters from GW & Esca.Vash becomes an unlikely guide as he and his friends discover what true happiness is."Vash’s eyes glittered as if they held a wisdom Heero had not thought possible. 'Find something that makes you feel alive aga
1. Once upon a time, four childhood friends...

Love's Labours Lost

By Stella and the Black Rose

Stella's AN: 

_This work of fiction is based on William Shakespeare's play of the same title, Love's Labours Lost.  Not one of his most famous works, but one of our favorites, it is the story of the young King of Navarre and his three friends who swear an oath to remove themselves from worldly pleasures (women, alcohol and money among them), and spend three years in the chaste pursuit of knowledge and wisdom.  Their plans are thwarted by a surprise visit from the Princess of __France__ and her three beautiful handmaidens.  The four men must then deal with their feelings and ultimately decide what is more important to them: pride or love.  (If you ever get a chance to see the play, go and see it!  If you're ever in the movie rental place and see Kenneth Branagh's version, avoid it like the plague!)._

_We've set our LLL in the present day using characters from our favorite anime series: Gundam Wing, Escaflowne, Trigun, and Weiss Kreuz.  It sounds like quite a crossover, but this fic was inspired by our desire to get all these characters together.  And the story is AU to any of the series, so if you haven't seen all four of them, you'll still be able to enjoy it!  A note to Trigun fans: This is our first attempt at writing Vash, Meryl and the others.  We sincerely love them and we tried our best to keep them in character.  They will figure much more prominently in the rest of the story, this prologue is just setting it all up.  Thanks for reading!_

Prologue

            Every day was the same as the one before it and the one before…and the one before.  When had they all turned to skies of gray and abysmal harmony?  Life…used to be worth living, worth waking up to - each morning a new day and challenge, a new opponent worthy to defeat.  Yet somehow…some way, he had lost his edge.  Heero Yuy, President of Gundanium Limited Liability Company (G.L.L.C.), and multibillionaire at twenty-four, had lost that razor sharp sense of himself that had always been his awareness, his advantage.  

            He scanned the opulent ballroom that the company had rented for the party to celebrate the launch of their latest software release.  The crystal chandeliers spilled gentle light onto the guests – mostly employees and business associates – as they perused the finished product on the many demo machines set up around the room, or blissfully ate their hor d'ourves around the crowded refreshment tables.  The din of happy voices and light-hearted conversation buzzed around him as Heero swilled the bourbon in his glass again, turning to gaze at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar.  Vacant, dark blue eyes stared back, rimmed with red and set in a stone cold expression of hatred towards all the cheerfulness around him. Compliments and boisterous applause flowed freely; laughter surged from corners of the room.   All those people.  They were happy…. But he had never been.

            "Hey, why so glum, huh?" A low, feminine voice hissed in his ear as one slender arm snaked around his shoulder while the other found its way conveniently to his thigh.  His lip curled up into a snarl as he reached down and jerked her hand away.

            "I don't want company."

            "Ah come on.  I'm not some bar fly, Heero, I'm a society woman.  I know who you are and how brilliant…"

            "I said I don't want company."

            "Hmph." She spun on her heel and stalked off in the direction she had come.  Heero didn't even watch her go.  She was the same as all the others.  He had seen enough of his friends get burned by them, those gold-digging, brainless 'society women' who read only Forbes and People to find their next 'target' – the next man to use in order to keep themselves in the lifestyle to which they had become accustomed.  She hadn't been gone long before a familiar black-haired man leaned over his shoulder, bringing his hand up to clap Heero on the back. 

"Hey," he said in greeting before flagging the bar tender to order a jack and coke on the rocks.  "You're not having any fun." He turned his attention to the man beside him.

            "Van." Heero nodded at his friend and continued to swill the bourbon around in his glass.  He stared at it as if it held the meaning of life, and realized that all too often these days; he had been finding himself searching for answers in the bottle that contained the deceitful liquid.

            A thin smile stretched Van's lips, but didn't quite reach his deep brown eyes.  "Hey, come on.  After this is over, we'll take a ride in the NSX.  The dealership just delivered it this afternoon."

            Heero glared sharply at his friend and marketing director of their long-lived partnership.  "Not another toy."

            His friend's face crumbled in an instant, as if it was a house of cards easily tumbled by the breath Heero expelled in speaking those three words. "It's not a toy; it's a fine European automobile.  No one builds a car like the Germans… or is it the Italians?" Van shrugged and sunk down on the barstool next to his longtime friend; he, too, seemed detached from the celebratory spirit enveloping everyone else around them.

            The other man made no reply. 

"What are we doing?"

            Heero looked up into brown eyes as vacant as the blue ones he could see in the mirror.  He raised an eyebrow at his friend's question.  

            "Do we even know anymore?" Van hunched over his glass as he spoke the words, almost as if he were talking to no one.  "I told myself eight weeks ago: 'This car will make you happy.'  I keep thinking that some… thing is going to change my life; fill up what's been missing."  Van shook his head and raised a glass to his lips.  He stared at its dark contents, made a face, and placed it back on the bar as he turned to Heero.  "It's ridiculous, I know.  I have more money than most people will see in a lifetime, and it still feels like something's so wrong.  I must be crazy," he said with a laugh, picking up his drink and finishing it in one gulp.

            Heero turned away and once again began searching the room.  Just what he was looking for, he couldn't say.  He listened as Van ordered another round for the both of them and settled back into his seat.  They were friends, had been friends since childhood.  If there was anyone he could trust with his truth, his always-bottled emotions, it was the man sitting beside him right now.  They had been through a lot together, had worked with their other two lifelong friends to build this software company, and put it and themselves where they were today.  He expelled a long breath before admitting what he had come to realize only a few hours before.  "No."

            "Huh?"

"No, Van.  You're not crazy."

"Then it's…it's not just me?  You feel it, too, don't you?" Dark brown eyes pleaded with him – to understand, to find a resolution, Heero wasn't sure what his friend was asking of him. He held no answers.  

"I can't…I can't keep on like this.  There's no challenge anymore.  No reason…."

            Heero shook his head.  "There is.  We just have to find it.  And we're not going to find it like this."

            They were interrupted from their conversation by the arrival of their Vice- President of Quality Assurance and third partner in their software enterprise.  His spiked hair and earrings marked a deep contrast between him and the other two at the bar.  Van wore slacks and a polo shirt, Heero, as always, a three-piece suit. 

"Hey guys!  Why so glum? Geez."  The two dark-haired men turned to glare at the new arrival.

  "What's with the look, boss?  You look like you're ready to kill someone." Always-cheerful green eyes blinked dolefully at the hostile reception.

            "That's the second time tonight I've been asked that, and if you put your hand in my lap, I'll break it off."

            "Dang.  Someone's got a short fuse.  Yikes – sorry I asked."

            "We were having a serious conversation, Vash." Van admonished his more boisterous friend with a look.  "Something you wouldn't understand."  

            The smile disappeared.  "That hurts, Van.  That really hurts.  We've been friends our whole lives, and you still see me as…"

"Maybe we wouldn't Vash, if you didn't act like a love sick puppy all the time." Heero turned back towards the bar, but Van wasn't finished chastising their mutual friend.

 "Yeah, we saw you carrying on with Tina over there.  When are you going to grow out of the hormonal teenager stage and act like…?"

"Act like what?" Bright emerald green darkened as Vash's eyes narrowed.  "An irresponsible jerk who throws away his money on the latest European sports car?  Or perhaps I should act like the inhuman, cold-as-ice, ruthless business man who shuts out everyone except his glass of bourbon that he can be seen with morning, noon and night?" 

The President of G.L.L.C. stiffened and turned abruptly, glass still in hand.  _He knows…How did he know?_  

"This used to be fun.  We were excited about getting up in the morning.  We couldn't wait to work on Zero, or just hang out together.  What happened to friends, you guys?  What happened to us?  

"Weiss," Heero snarled into his glass, the grip on the crystal causing his knuckles to turn white.

Vash slowly shook his head.  "No, Heero, Weiss was a wakeup call.  Look around you.  The reviews are in; we're back on top.  We're multi-billionaires now, we have everything we could possibly want."

"Then why aren't we happy?" Van asked, the flesh around his eyes crinkling like he was years older than what he was.

"Because you've lost your drive.  Nothing challenges you in this game anymore.  And when that happens, there's only one thing you can do."  Vash's eyes glittered as if they held a wisdom Heero had not thought possible in their often-ridiculous friend.  His attire certainly didn't spark any confidence – G.L.L.C. logo boxers over bright red sweatpants, a tux jacket and smiley-face t-shirt topped off by bow tie. 

The young president scowled.  "And that is?"

"Play a different game."

Van scrunched up his face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Find something outside the box that presents a new challenge, a new reason to get up every morning.  Find something that makes you feel alive again - something that makes you want to be a better man."

"I've worked too hard to be where I am today.  I'm not going to give it up, to just hand over…"

"You don't have to give anything up, Heero.  Just delegate some of your authority for a while and find something else."

"I'm not taking up a hobby."

"It doesn't have to be a hobby.  It could be learning something new, or traveling…"

"Hey, Vashy-boo.  I was wondering where you'd run off to." A high-pitched feminine voice squealed from behind the spiky-haired blond.  A dark blush stained his cheeks at the looks he received from his companions.

"Tina." 'Vashy-boo' turned to face the voluptuous redhead, giving a shy wave.  "Hi." He smiled at her with wide eyes that appreciated every curve.

"I was getting lonely over there all by myself," she cooed and batted eyelashes at her easily caught prey.  Her full pink lips pouted as she glided towards him, running her fingers over his spiky hair and tracing a line to the smiley face on his chest.

A grin spread across his lips to rival the one on his shirt. "Ahhh.  Well, we can't have that, now can we?"

Heero glanced at Van and rolled his eyes.  His friend pantomimed looping a noose around his neck and hanging himself.  Heero smirked and pushed his glass away as Vash and Tina walked arm and arm towards the door.

"He's such a sap," Van muttered and took another sip of his drink. "And he sure doesn't pull any punches."

"Hn." Heero flagged the bartender.  "I'll have a coke."

"Rum or Whiskey in it, Mr. Yuy."

"Neither.  Just a coke."

Van choked on his drink.  "What?"

"He's right.  We need a change."

Van opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, they were interrupted by their fourth and lately oft-missing partner in G.L.L.C.  

"Hey guys, what'd I miss?" The blond, impeccably dressed young man greeted his friends with a smile. He took the seat next to Van at the bar.

Heero finished taking a sip of his coke and nodded.  "Quatre."

"How's the portfolio?" Van asked, his mouth set in a crooked grin.

The blond Chief Financial Officer smiled at his two long-time friends.  "Oh good.  Very good.  We're up another couple of mil.  All in all I'd say it was a productive day."

Heero placed his glass down carefully on the surface of the bar.  If there was going to be a change made, then they were going to face it as they had always done in the past – together.  "Must have been a long day.  You missed the launch."

Light blue eyes glanced away at the accusation.  "Yeah, I'm sorry.  Maybe next time.  I just had…"

Van picked up where Heero left off.  "You missed the last launch, too, Quatre.  And the last catastrophe!  You weren't there when the press was all over our case about Weiss, either."

Quatre jumped from his seat. "I've been working!  I've been increasing our profit margin and making the gains that keeps you in your precious sports cars, Vash in his women, and Heero in his booze. What do you want from me?" His eyes danced with uncharacteristic resentment.

Heero took in a deep breath, apparently his 'dysfunction' had been more apparent than he thought.  His mouth tightened into a stubborn line as he watched, for the second time that evening, two of his friends and partners argue bitterly.

"We were supposed to be in this together."  Van stood up from his bar stool and assumed a rigid stance.  His fists shook at his sides, a rush of anger hitting his brain at the same time as the alcohol.

Red crept across Quatre's delicate features.  He had always been the most sensitive of the bunch.  "Well, we haven't been together in a long time."

Van advanced.  "Yeah, 'cuz you're never there!"

Heero watched as Quatre took a step back.  They were all well aware that Van was the most temperamental. And while Vash wore the alternating façade of saint and clown, Heero had always been their leader.  Somehow, he was the one who had determined their path and set it all in motion.  He was the one who needed to solve their mutual 'problem' – whatever it was. 

He looked from Van to Quatre.  Never had any of them been at each other's throats like this.  They were friends; this was supposed to be a partnership, their ticket to everything they had always wanted, everything they had always dreamed of.  

Once upon a time, four childhood friends got together and decided to go into business instead of wasting precious years in college learning about trivial details they'd never use.  The two computer 'geniuses' wrote an operating system that would revolutionize the PC industry, while the other two used their talents to secure working capital and devise a marketing strategy.  Packaged under the name of the Zero Operating System (Z/OS), the four created a company built on the strength of their product, and made a virtual empire – all by the time any of them had reached the age of twenty-one.

Heero stood up and closed the distance between his friends.  "That's enough.  We're going to have a meeting in my office tomorrow morning.  Call Vash and tell him to be there 8am sharp."  He met Van's still burning eyes.  "Sit down, Van.  This isn't the answer.  We'll discuss it all tomorrow."

  He waited for his friend to comply before turning to address the CFO.  "Quatre, you don't have a choice.  Make the meeting or prepare to sell your share of the company."

"Bu…"

Heero stopped him with a warning look.  "We all need a change.  I never thought I'd say this, but Vash is right; we need a new challenge, a new game." Dark blue eyes flashed in the dim lighting of the room.  

"I think I have the solution."


	2. Vash, just sign it!

Love's Labours Lost

By Stella and the Black Rose

Rose's AN:

_Okay, to further 'spell out' the focus of this fic…_

_Heero__, Relena, Quatre, and Dorothy are from **Gundam**** Wing. The pairings featured will be ****Heero**** x Relena and ****Quatre**** x Dorothy.**_

_ Van, Millerna, Allen, and Hitomi are all from **Escaflowne. Allen and Millerna will only have a passing mention. The pairing featured from Esca is ****Van x Hitomi.**_

_ Vash, Millie Thompson, Meryl Stryfe, Bernadelli (Insurance Society, now Financial Weekly), and Wolfwood are all from the anime series **Trigun. The pairings featured will be ****Vash ****x Meryl, and possibly a passing mention of Wolfwood x Millie.**_

_ Ran Fujiyama, Omi Tsukiyono, Yohji Kadou, Ken Hidaka, Sakura Tomoe are all from the anime series **Weiss Kreuz (called Knight Hunters in the **__U.S.__ release). There may be a passing mention of a Ran x Sakura pairing._

**Chapter 1**

Steel blue eyes narrowed venomously at the cowering man before them. He'd heard enough arguments and shouting, and now his friend was begging and pleading – and procrastinating. But this was no laughing matter, not to him, nor the other two men in the room that had already signed on that same dotted line. "Vash, just sign it."

"Is he going to cry?" Van smirked and crossed his arms, earning himself a dirty look from the protesting blond.

"It's alright, Vash. You can do it." Quatre slid the paper back towards their friend.

The pen shook in Vash's slender fingers, making a series of miniscule but non-committal lines on the document. "Hey guys, remind me again - whose idea was this anyway?"

The three other men standing in the office all stared at him and answered in unison. "Yours."

"Oh." Vash furrowed his brow and read over the stipulations outlined in the final paragraph. The pen slipped from his grasp as he sunk into the chair behind Heero's desk, glancing meekly up at the others.

He perused the final sentences and scratched his head. "What – was I drunk?"

"I think so," Van answered, inching the paper closer to the final signer. It seemed to keep creeping away as if the sheet itself and Vash were the same polar ends of a magnet. 

"It was last week, the night after Version 7.2 went gold1. You're the one who said we should take a break from all of this. We made a pact – three years. Here it is in writing, we've already signed." Quatre smiled kindly, reaching into his pocket to offer Vash another pen. The three men closed in around their spiky-haired associate. There would be no escape.

Vash's lip quivered again as he reached out for the pen in Quatre's hand. He stared at it longingly for a few moments, and then held the small tube close to his face, studying the writing implement more closely.

"Ooooh, is this the new company logo pen? Nice choice, Quatre! The blue plastic really sets off the gold lettering nicely. Though I did like the red one too…"

Heero crossed his arms, glaring at the lone hold out.

His expression was not lost on Vash. "Hey, stop looking at me like that, boss. You can be down right scary sometimes, you know that. Scary!"

"We're all in this together." Heero said. "Since we were teenagers, our lives have been centered around this company, and nothing else. Here we are years later and they're empty. Devoid of meaning. It's time for us to focus on other things besides codes and drivers and corporate politics. To be… "

"Better men," Van finished.

"This is all we know," Heero continued pointing to the computer perched atop his desk. "You said it yourself, Vash."

"I did?"

Heero nodded slowly. "Do you know anything about the great philosophers? Or nineteenth century British novelists… or the history of South America?"

Vash shook his head.

"Well, neither do I. I think what we need is the very thing we tried to avoid."

"This is our chance, Vash," Van offered, picking up where Heero had left off. "Things are pretty steady around here. We have a solid development team, competent managers. We can just… slip away."

"B-b-but… this is a little drastic guys, dontcha think? Three years? A man has needs! No – no booze, no vacations; no women! Let me say it again, you know, just in case you didn't get it! No women…." Vash moaned and turned pleading green eyes up towards the leader of their little group.

"No distractions," Heero corrected.

"No mercy," Vash added, his expression sobering as if he had just been sentenced by the judge and jury to a life sentence.

"And that's for all of us," Quatre said, sounding unjustly cheerful, at least as far as Vash was concerned. "No fancy new cars, no trips to computer conferences – just concentrating on gaining knowledge and making ourselves more well-rounded. Think of how much more you'll appreciate all those things when you've been without them."

"But no women!" 

The others glared at their vivacious blond friend. He recoiled. 

"You're really serious, aren't you?"

Heero stepped forward. "Have you ever known me _not to be serious?"_

A nervous laugh escaped Vash's lips. "Well, there was that time when you… or maybe, back… um, no, on second thought – yeah, you've always been serious."

"You've read the document. You know what happens if any of us breaks the pact."

"We forfeit our share of the company. I know. I'm sure that was yours, too," Vash mumbled, stealing a quick and noxious look at Heero. "Harsh."

"So, are you with us, Vash?" Van asked. 

"It's always been the four of us," Quatre offered with a grin.

Vash bit his lip, eyes darting between the faces of his three childhood friends and business partners. He took a deep, painful breath and put the pen to the paper, looking away as he scribbled his name. "I know I'm going to hate myself in the morning."

"Well," Van breathed, "Now that that's all taken care of…" He was cut off by the sound of the door opening, and the four men looked up to see Heero's secretary, Millie Thompson standing in the doorway. She was tall, with shoulder-length brown hair and guileless light green eyes set in a heart-shaped face that leant innocence to her expression. 

"Excuse me, Mr. Yuy? Oh, I didn't realize all four of you were in here," her girlish voice provided a sharp contrast to the masculine air in the room.

"Yes, Millie, what is it?" Heero asked as his secretary slipped her slender frame between the polished wooden panels.

"Meryl Stryfe from _Bernardelli__ Financial Weekly is here for your interview, sir."_

"Interview?" Heero choked out.

Millie nodded. "You agreed to be profiled in her 'Billionaires Under 25' piece for next week's issue." Heero stared at her blankly, but the secretary only smiled. "She's an old friend of mine from college, isn't that funny? We used to hang out all the time; we were even in the same sorority! I haven't seen her in forever, and here she is!"

"Fascinating. What do you mean inter-"

"Is she pretty?" Vash interrupted.

Van scowled at him and pointed to the paper he'd just signed. Vash frowned. "It doesn't technically start till tomorrow," he whispered, earning a quizzical glance from Millie.

"Interview?" Heero repeated, exchanging bewildered glances with his friends. "When did I agree to this?"

Millie cleared her throat. "Five days ago when she called, and I buzzed you, and you asked what she wanted, and I told you, and you said, 'Hn.' 

"Okay…"

"I took it as a 'yes.'"

"Uh-huh… Hn…" Heero massaged his temples, silently swearing under his breath while he moved behind his desk, and nudged Vash out of his chair. "Give us a minute, then send her in."

"K," Millie grinned, and closed the door behind her.

When they were alone once again, Heero stood with his hands flat on his desk, leaning over its surface while looking up at the room's other occupants. "I don't think I need to tell you that word of this," he said, pointing at their pact, "doesn't leave this office. I've arranged for this to be handled quietly, and of course we'll still be available for any issues that may come up and require our attention. We'll be studying at Columbia University in New York City, but on the whole, no one is to know what we're doing. The shareholders would have a collective heart attack."

"Absolutely," Van and Quatre agreed.

Vash blinked. "Oh, yeah – sure. Well, I'd love to stay and see you get grilled by the lady-reporter and all, but I've got some work to do. I think my floppies need to be alphabetized or something," Vash called out, placing a set of headphones in his ears and making for the door. 

"Fine then," Van said, holding the document. "Give this to Millie on your way out and tell her to file it with all the corporate papers."

"Yes, sir…" Vash froze instantly as the door opened once again, watching as Meryl Stryfe came into view. She strode confidently into the office, her short, dark brown hair smartly styled, and wearing a deep blue suit the same color as her eyes. He couldn't help but notice how perfectly it clung to the curves of her petite frame. He pulled the headphones out of his ears in order to devote his full attention to new arrival.

She carried a small briefcase tucked under her arm and must have noticed his gaze because she stopped right in front of him, cocking her head to one side and staring at him the way people stare at an exotic bird or reptile at the zoo.

"Hello," she said politely, her tone sharp and businesslike. She didn't wait for his response, but instead turned her attention to the man behind the desk, and extended her hand as she walked to meet him.

"Mr. Yuy. Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me today. _Bernardelli__ Financial Weekly is thrilled to be featuring you and your company in our magazine."_

Heero nodded slightly, gesturing for her to take a seat while he did the same. Van and Quatre pulled up chairs and positioned themselves beside the desk. Quatre looked up at Vash, who was still standing in the middle of the room, eyes fixed on Meryl while a slight blush stole over his complexion.

"Will you be joining us after all, Vash?"

"Ah, well gee… guess it couldn't hurt to stay," he replied with a chuckle, tucking the forgotten document into his coat pocket and sliding into the chair closest to Meryl's with lightening speed. She watched him momentarily out of the corner of her eye before proceeding to remove her tape recorder and writing pad from her briefcase. Upon deciding that he seemed harmless enough, she commenced with the interview.

"Mr. Yuy, Mr. Fanel, Mr. Winner and Mr.?"

"Vash. Just Vash." 

"Right, Mr. Vash… Well, I know you all are very busy men, so let's get right down to business, shall we? I'd like to start with some history. Is it true that the four of you founded Gundanium Software when you were just sixteen years old?"

Van sat up in his chair and smiled. "Well, there's only so much you can do in a city where it rains nine months out of the year. We all lived in the same neighborhood in west Seattle, so we used to just sit in Heero's basement after school tinkering around with his Uncle J's old computers. We started developing Zero in our freshman year of high school."

"I see." The reporter looked them all over in turn. "What made you decide to write an operating system? I mean, there are any number of things you could have created, why an OS?

"The evolution of Zero was so gradual," Quatre answered, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "We didn't sit down one day and say 'let's do an OS' – it just kind of… happened."

"So, what was the division of labor back then– and what is it today? Who's in charge of which aspects of the company?"

Heero spoke up for the first time. "I handle the development. Vash does the testing, and he helps me out… occasionally."

"Awww, boss, I'm touched."

"I can't argue with that." 

"Ha ha. Oooh, Heero made a joke. Mark this day…"

"Division of labor?" Meryl inquired again, watching Heero roll his eyes at Vash's comment.

"Right. Well, Quatre's our numbers man," Van said, pointing a thumb at his friend. "And I take care of marketing largely. We both add to the product by thinking up new features and helping development to keep the user in mind. Back in the day we'd sit there asking Heero if he could make the OS do this and that."

Heero scowled.

"I take it that 'development' didn't always appreciate that," Meryl giggled.

"Yeah, he can get a little surly sometimes if we mess with his baby," Vash laughed. "But that's enough about him, Miss Meryl. Let's talk about us."

"Us?" 

"I'm sure Vash means more about what it is that we do," Van spat through his teeth, glowering at his friend.

"What?" the blond mouthed silently, toying innocently with his earring, all the while inching his chair closer to Meryl's. Van shook his head and shot a pleading look at Quatre.

"Um, what we do with the company besides software?" Quatre guessed, hoping that the reporter would take the bait.

"Oh yes. GLLC is very well-known for its generous contributions to charities. Children's hospitals, cancer research, homeless shelters… the list goes on. But you don't speak out about the causes you donate to – do you have any personal ties to these organizations?"

"Well, I have to say that's mainly Vash and Quatre's department," Heero commented, his face holding no expression or interest for the topic at hand. Charities weren't his concern; he let the others donate what they would for tax deduction purposes only.

"Mr. Vash?"

"Well, it's just that – someone I cared about very much died of cancer. And in general, I just hate to see people suffering, especially children. Do you like children, Miss Reporter? I'd like to have a whole bunch myself; I think you'd make an excellent mother…"

"Vash," Heero warned, his face hardening into an angry scowl. It hadn't been five minutes since they had all made their pact and signed it and the idiot was asking this reporter to have his children. He really was completely hopeless.

"Yes, boss?" Vash blinked innocently up at his friend.

"Well, we just like to put the money where it's needed," Quatre added with a gentle grin, attempting to alleviate the tension. It would only be a momentary respite, as the lone woman in the room smiled weakly at the company's financial manager before flipping through her notes and stopping at a page with one word on it. A name. 

"Let's talk about Weiss."

The room fell into silence, and Meryl noticed that even Vash sat up straight, rigid and grimacing as if the name itself was somehow causing him pain.

"So, gentlemen. How much of an impact do you feel the hacking incident had on GLLC?"

Heero's lips stretched in a colorless, thin line. The muscles in his jaw twitched in protest as forced them to open so he could give his answer.

"We had some issues we had to take care of with Zero. Though initially, it was a shock, we did our best to view it as a test. Zero had weaknesses. We fixed them."

"And after the latest launch of 7.2 Server… the numbers were very good," Quatre offered. "I think we would all agree that the industry is behind us, and the public is responding well."

Van forced a smile, though still brooding about the security breaches. "Z/OS is the best that's out there, and everyone knows it. That incident showed us that we weren't perfect, but it also helped us improve an already great product. We're confident that Zero is and will always be on top."

"You're quite the salesman, Mr. Fanel."

Van flashed his most suave smile. "Have to have some company pride, Miss Stryfe."

With a chuckle, Meryl sorted through her papers. Noticing that her notepad was full, she made a quick search for a blank sheet. "Oh dear, how embarrassing," she said, color racing to her cheeks. I seem to be out paper. I thought I packed my extra…"

"Have no fear!" Vash smiled, digging in his pockets. Sorting through foil candy wrappers and women's phone numbers, within moments, he retrieved a larger folded page. "Looks like there's plenty of room on this one," he said, offering it to the reporter seated beside him.

"Oh, thanks very much. I know I have my tape recorder, but also like to have things in writing."

"That's understandable, Miss Meryl. I feel the same way. I think you must be my soul mate."

"Uh-huh. So, Mr. Yuy – where do you think the software industry is headed in the next, say, three to five years?"

Heero stopped glaring at Vash long enough to answer. "It's a synthesis of the hardware and software companies. Advances in software spur on improvements and innovation in hardware and vice-versa. I know that some of the software companies that have licensed Zero are doing some amazing things with servers."

"Yes, we've heard some rumors about PCC and their latest product. It's supposed to be revolutionary."

"I'll be really interested to hear about the premiere if they make it to the MO-II computer fair in New York City this year," Van mused, his mind wandering to THE annual industry gathering that he would be missing for the next three years.

"Lastly, gentlemen, I just want to ask… having come so far at such a young age, do you feel you've paid any price in other areas of life for your success?"

"Yes and no," Heero said, his expression betraying nothing_. But that will soon change._

_ "Everything has a trade-off," Quatre said. "I just like to think that the paths we've chosen are the ones that were meant for us. And we've been lucky."_

"Luck has nothing to do with it, Quatre," Van stated with a smirk. "We gave the world something it needed. We were in the right place at the right time."

"Sounds like luck to me," Vash snorted.

Meryl chuckled. "Well, thank you all so much. Speaking of luck, I really had my share today being able to talk to all four of you. I know it will really add to this story – I'll send over next week's issue before it even cools from the presses."

"Do you have to leave so soon?" Vash pouted, following the reporter as she reached for the door handle. "I was thinking that we could get to know one another… you know, discuss our future-"

"Vash, we still have to finish our meeting," Van called out as he and Quatre returned the chairs to their original positions.

"Have a nice evening, Mr. Vash," Meryl mumbled, trying not to be too obvious while she stared at his hair. "Bizarre…" 

"Well, that was fairly painless, I guess," Van said, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that just the four of them remained.

"Hey, Vash. Make sure she's gone before you give the pact to Millie."

"The pact – oh yeah. Oh…" Vash's fingers toyed with only gum wrappers and the lint that remained in his empty pocket. _The paper! The reporter! "Uh-oh…"_

"So, how did you get us into Columbia, Heero?" Quatre asked, filling his tea cup.

"It's a long story."

"Hey, Vash! You're going to be in the Ivy League. Don't you want to hear this?" Van called after their rapidly departing friend.

"Actually… there's something I gotta take care of – see ya later! Bye!" He cried out over his shoulder, letting the door slam behind him.

"Oh, hellooo, Mr. Vash!" The secretary greeted him with a pleasant smile.

"Helloooo. Millie! Where did your friend the reporter girl go?"

"Why, she just headed towards the elevator. She couldn't stop talking about how interesting things are around here, especially you. Though I don't think 'interesting' was the specific word she used for you, it was more like mania-"

"Which elevator, Millie?!"

"The one by the east entrance."

"Reporter girl! Uh, Miss Meryl!" Vash caught his breath after a record-breaking hallway sprint, leaping into the elevator after the departing woman.

"Mr. Vash, I didn't expect you to see you so soon. Going down?" 

"You have no idea…"

"What was that?"

"Uh-yeah, down is fine, thanks. I was wondering, if you wouldn't mind… That piece of paper that I gave you back in Heero's office? I, uh, kinda need to have it back."

"Oh… well, I have some of my interview notes on it and I'm in a huge hurry right now. Can I drop it back here tomorrow after I copy my notes?"

"No, I'm afraid I REALLY need it."

"I'm afraid I really do, too, Mr. Vash. I have a deadline; this story is due in by midnight, and the nearest copy machine is now five floors away. I don't have time to go back up, I really have to…"

He couldn't help it, he reached out and grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face him. "Miss Meryl, I cannot stress to you my utmost crucial and dire need for that little piece of paper."

Her eyes widened. "It's that important? Is it some top-secret new idea for GLLC?"

"I guess you could say that," Vash said and released his grip on her small frame.

Meryl rummaged in her bag, retrieving the notebook with the single sheet wedged in the middle. She slipped it out of its confines and glanced at her notes, then quickly flipped it to the other side.

"No! Please don't!"

She grinned. "Just a little peek! I'm a… 'We, the undersigned, do hereby agree to this pact; that from three years on from the indicated date, we shall henceforth devote ourselves fully to the pursuit of knowledge. We shall abstain from romantic relationships with women, the consumption of alcohol, attendance to computer conventions and shows and daily practices of business and anything deemed as "distracting" from our studies. There will be no vacation time allotted…'"

"Oh, this is bad," Vash groaned and wanted to melt into the carpet. Heero was going to kill him for sure. He'd never get to see the sun rise again in the morning, he'd never get to finish that last level of Devil May Cry, or complete the Metal Gear Solid II mission. He was never going to see the rest of the Star Wars epic. _And we're so close to the Episode II release! He was doomed…._

"'…who breaks this oath forfeits his shares and interest in Gundanium Limited Liability Company! Mr. Vash – what is this?'"

"Nothing," Vash tried to laugh it off, but he knew she wasn't buying it. "Can I have it ple-" 

"This is a bet." 

Vash winced. "Well, it's more of a…"

"Pact."

"I was going to say 'cruel and unusual punishment for some offence I must have committed in a past life,' but if you want to use the word 'pact...'"

"Forget the 'Billionaires Under 25' – this will be my cover story! Unbelievable! Three years? Studying? No dating? No alcohol? No daily involvement in GLLC?"

"Rub it in, why don't you! But you can't say a thing! It's supposed to be a secret! They'll kill me – do you understand? I've seen Heero and Van play 'Doom;' they handle those weapons just a little too well, thank you very much. Please, lady, I'm too young to die!" He sunk down to his knees and affixed his best puppy dog look. But it didn't seem to have any effect on its intended recipient. 

"Mr. Vash, I am a reporter. It's my job to keep _BFW's readers informed about what's going on in the business world. The four key men in one of the most powerful software companies in the world taking three years off is a pretty big newsworthy item."_

"Just my luck, the one time I really need an air headed sympathetic type female around, and I'm stuck with this no-nonsense career woman. It's just not my day!"

"What was that?"

"Well, I was just trying to… you see… we'll be away, but not out of touch." 

"Right. You'll be away. That's sure to affect the company."

"Please! I'm begging you!" He dove to the floor and hugged her feet. _At least she has nice legs…_

"I'm sorry, Mr. Vash. Nothing you can say will change my mind. You're on the record."

"Can't you take me off the record?" He gripped her ankles tighter as his eyes traveled up her calf to the curve of her knee.

"No."

"You're killing me here!"

"I'm sorry, but-"

"Please?" He whined, still trying to sound pathetic as his gaze continued to travel up her leg, trying to get a glimpse of her panties. _I wonder if she's wearing a thong. I didn't see a line…_

"Mr. Vash, get up. Stop groveling - you're embarrassing yourself and you're drooling on the carpet… Are you looking up my skirt?"

_Uh-oh.__ Caught. _

"No…" He scrambled away from her legs and tried to cool the blush heating his cheeks. She glared down at him, and he looked away, towards the floor. "Well, maybe… Gee, you must work out."

"I do actually. Four days a week at the… HEY!"

The doors opened with a smooth 'shoosh' and Meryl wasted no time in stepping over Vash and heading for the exit. Through the lobby's glass exterior she could see the gray sky and mist obscuring the mountains in the distance. She hastily buttoned her coat and opened her umbrella as she stepped out into the drizzling cold. Vash was hot on her heels.

"Miss Meryl!"

"Mr. Vash, I have nothing else to say to a big-mouthed, wild-haired pervert who just happened to screw up. I have an obligation to the readers. That's all! Good day!"

His mind kicked back into gear, momentarily forgetting the pleasing sight of her slender, well-muscled legs and pink panties. _Definitely a thong…_

He chased her out into the abysmal Seattle afternoon. "What if I gave you exclusive rights to the story – you know, after the fact?" He grasped desperately for another solution.

"What?"

His teeth chattered and water-droplets clung to his blond spikes and dripped off of his bright red coat. "We won't talk to anyone else but you. Whether we make this work or all fail miserably at it. Just think – it'll be more than a boring financial story, it'll be one of those big deal human interest things that everyone goes crazy for. And you'll have the exclusive, Miss Meryl."

"Well, I have to admit that it's an interesting offer."

"I'll even call you with updates from New York."

"Oh, so you'll be in New York?"

"Dammit." 

"I'll think it over, Mr. Vash."

* * * * * * * *

1 – The term "going gold" in respect to software, means "to be released". It is our understanding this term is used by Seattle based software companies….


	3. 

Love's Labours Lost

by Stella and the Black Rose

**Chapter 2**

Vash tapped his foot in time with the Sinatra music piping from the speakers above the cozy corner booth at their favorite Italian restaurant. A night out – sort of a last hurrah before… 

"Here's the itinerary," Heero said, his expressionless eyes glinting in the dim light as he distributed printouts to his three friends. Vash held the paper up to the candle in the middle of the table.

"Ooooh, we're flying into Newark! We get to visit the corporate jet!" 

Van exhaled through his teeth and fought the urge to lunge across the table and strangle Vash with his bare hands. "Yes, Vash. Remind me again why it is that our jet's been on the east coast for the last four months? And why we have to fly on a commercial airline… in coach class!" 

"Hey, man. All I did was take a girl to dinner."

"In France!" Van seethed, picking up a breadstick and waving it threateningly in the other man's direction. "And don't forget that the hydraulics for the landing gear malfunctioned in Newark when you stopped to refuel, and it's been there ever since!"

"She said she wanted French food…" Green eyes blinked up at his friend while long fingers bit at the paper itinerary, peeling little bits off of one corner and sprinkling the table with a fine dust of nervous confetti.

"Do you know how much that cost the company?" Quatre asked. 

Vash could tell that the Financial Officer was mentally going over the figures and was getting ready to start spouting off numbers. "Hey, you guys. You can't put a price on true love."

"True love? You dated her twice!"

Vash let out a long, heavy sigh and placed his hand over his heart. "Marianne…"

Van rolled his eyes. "Oh give me a break. Did I mention that when I had to fly to that conference in Phoenix three weeks ago, I got stuck sitting next to Allen Schezar in first class!"

Vash stroked his chin, doing his best to look thoughtful. "Yes, come to think of it, you have mentioned that – about 60 billion* times! Why do you hate that guy so much anyways?" His blond eyebrows knitted together. "And by the way, it's not my fault that Mr. El-Cheapo over there refuses to fly it back even though it's been fixed."

Heero crossed his arms and sank back in his seat. "I'm not going to justify the expense to fly it back empty. I'll sell it first."

"But I love that plane…" Vash said, sticking out his lower lip. His expression brightened, however, when four steaming bowls of pasta came into view. "Yay! Food's here!"

"Thank you, miss." Quatre smiled as their waitress set a plate of marinara and cheese topped stuffed shells in front of him. 

Heero barely noticed his lasagna; all his attention was fixed on the tall glass of water off to the side of his dinner. Resigned not to drink although the pact technically didn't take effect until tomorrow, it had been a very long day - especially with all the final arrangements for their departure. At least Vash was quiet now, busy stuffing his face. 

After the waitress left them, Heero made his announcement. "As you can see, our plane departs at 7:20 am - Cinq Airlines flight 001. The car will leave my place at 4:30. We'll pick you up first Quatre, then you, Vash, then Van. Enjoy it. It'll be your last limo ride for a while."

"What to do you mean, boss?" Vash asked, slurping a spaghetti noodle into his mouth before looking up to meet Heero's icy stare.

"Quatre, would you care to enlighten him?"

Quatre set down his fork and took a sip of his water before breaking the news to their vivacious, money's-there-to-spend-it philosophical friend. "We'll be living on a budget for the entire three year period of study."

Vash froze, a shower of spaghetti dangling limply from the fork in front of his mouth, before they lost their delicate balance and sloshed down onto the plate with a barely audible splash. His saucer-eyed gaze shifted back to Heero. "Budget?" He croaked.

Silence was the only reply. 

His face finally cracked into a wide grin. "Oh, that's a good one, boss!" he laughed, sipping his soda gingerly. "Two jokes in one day! Are you sick or something - wow!"

"I'm not joking, Vash. We'll get a monthly draw from an account that Quatre set up for us. Your personal assets will be frozen until the three years are up."

Their already red-faced friend sputtered, forcing himself to swallow the liquid. He coughed and tears sprang into his eyes.

"Vash, are you ok?" 

"I… no…bu-but…" Blood rushed to his cheeks, and green eyes darted about wildly as if the walls were suddenly closing in on their cozy booth. He coughed again and leaned forward over his plate, gasping for air.

The blond sitting beside him patted him on the back, concerned creases forming on his forehead.

"Vash, are you choking?"

"Look at him, he's breathing. I think he's just in shock, Quatre," Van offered. Getting bored with the melodramatics, he turned his full attention to the food in front of him.

Quatre tapped his friend lightly on the shoulder. "Vash?"

The red clad man huffed and wheezed, his hands coming up to his neck. Tears streamed down his cheeks until his eyes rolled backwards and his figure seemed to swoon over the table. An eerie silence settled over the occupants of the booth, broken only by the juicy splish-splosh sound of Vash's face hitting the mess of noodles in front of him.

"Vash!"

"He just fainted. He'll be fine." Van said, momentarily regarding Quatre's wide eyes as he cast a sideways glance in Vash's direction. He took another sip of tea before continuing to eat.

Heero picked up his fork and speared a chunk of his dinner, also looking over at his unconscious friend. "People are starting to stare. Will someone get him out of the spaghetti?"

* * * * *

Four sets of bleary eyes stared at each other within the confines of the limousine. Was this really happening? Would they really be gone for three whole years? Vash blinked and let his gaze float out the window into the hazy predawn light. 

In the fleeting distance, he could just make out Seattle's Space Needle, its shape the most distinct among the lighted silhouettes of the other buildings. He'd taken many a lovely young lady to have dinner in the tower's revolving restaurant, but he had always liked going there during the day as a kid. On the rare occasion of a blue sky, he could see so far… the Olympic Mountains in the west, presiding at a distance over the shining waters of Elliot Bay. He would sit and watch the ferries lolling in and out of ports along the waterfront while site-seers meandered by the docks and the strange Olde Curiosity Shoppe that held the treasures of past seafarers – complete with authentic mummies and shrunken heads. 

He'd miss the deli downtown that made those lovely salmon sandwiches, and Broadway, where he found his most interesting clothes. Remorse tugged on his heart when the last glimmerings of the city disappeared behind him, shrouded by the dark hills on either side of the highway. He'd never been away from the northwest for more than a couple of days. Vash sighed heavily and turned around in his seat, having said his silent farewell, and watched the purple halos in the skies begin giving way to yellow as the sun rose over the Cascades in the east, reflecting on the jagged, snow-capped peeks. The familiar colossal outline of the dormant volcano Mount Ranier loomed over them as their car sped down the deserted 405. 

"Good-bye, friend. Don't go blowing your top while I'm gone now, wouldn't want to miss all the fun."

"Stop sniffling over a mountain, Vash," Van groused, his dark eyes seething even at this early hour of the day.

Vash seemed to read the dark-haired man's mind. He knew that look. Van was just perturbed at the fact that Starbuck's hadn't been open at five a.m. when they left his house. "Someone needs a latte, geez… You are so not a morning person," he yawned, doing his best to swallow the lump in his throat. "I think I still have some spaghetti sauce up my nose from last night. 

"I really needed to know that," Van snarled, shooting his friend another cross look.

Vash reached across Quatre's sleeping form, hunting for a box of tissues.

"Aren't you going to miss home, Van?"

"I'm sure I will, but that big house by the lake… it never felt like home."

Van stole a fleeting glance at the passing landscape before sinking back into the plush leather seat and assuming the same position as Heero - with arms crossed and eyes closed. 

Vash studied his friends. Van and Quatre – he had always been able to read them. Van with his temper and Quatre, so gentle and sensitive… all he had to do was look at them and he knew how they were feeling. But Heero was another matter. Vash fixed his green eyes on his friend's stoic face. Heero could be quite a mystery… But he knew they were all searching for something; an elusive sense of completeness, answers to questions they had only just begun to ask themselves. Whatever they were looking for, Vash hoped they would find it.

The car slowed, making a lazy turn off the exit ramp, snapping Vash out of his thoughts. "Hey guys," he called out, noticing the airport signs. "We're here." _Let the adventure begin…_

* * * * *

**Peacecraft Computer Corp. (PCC) Tower**

**New York City****, ****NY**

Morning's brightness was deeply dimmed by winter fog blasting in on chilly air. The lofty tower of the PCC building rose above the cloud-like smog that lay like a woolen blanket over the city – warming the busy streets until they steamed with activity. The office tower was not new, but recently purchased to run the growing company's operations along the eastern seaboard. Most of the interior was fairly fashionable, but the carpet lay almost thread bare in patches along the hallways. Regardless of the overuse, the structure gleamed with elegant antiquity. The building was something they could renovate with time, but business had to come before luxury. 

Brass elevator doors clanged open and Relena smiled at the blond woman that stepped inside the otherwise empty car. Dorothy Catalonia's ice blue eyes glittered in response as she thrust a slick magazine into her friend's hands. 

"Not Cosmo again. Dorothy, I told you - I'm not taking another one of those ridiculous sex quizzes…"

"Who has time for that?" She asked, her mouth twisting into a slight smile. "Relena Peacecraft, meet the new love of my life."

Relena arched an eyebrow and turned the magazine right side up. She read the title of the feature article on the cover of the Bernadelli Financial Weekly. "The Kings of Gundanium?" She tilted her head in a thoughtful pose, her mind immediately making the connection between the piece and one of their most lucrative client/vendors. A smirk slowly took shape on her pink-tinged lips as she studied the photos of the two men her friend had just 'introduced' her to. She pointed to one of the faces peering out of the glossy pages, and held it up to the confident blond corporate attorney. 

"I think he's definitely your type," she said, her blue eyes glinting beneath wispy bangs carefully plucked from amongst her upswept hair.

Dorothy rolled her eyes. "No, not the freak. The other one. Heero Yuy."

Relena turned the magazine around again. The contrast between the two "Kings of Gundanium" was startling, almost comical. Of the two software geniuses, the first wore blond spikes and had twinkling green eyes partially hidden behind a set of bizarre looking yellow glasses. His features were graced with a goofy grin that was rivaled in absurdity only by his bright red coat. The other face on the cover was undoubtedly handsome, but the angular jaw was locked in a hard-set expression. His sapphire-colored eyes were beautiful, but steely and serious under a mop of chocolate brown hair. "The dark-haired one is Heero Yuy?"

Dorothy nodded. "Uh-huh. A total hottie. Definitely do-able."

Relena scrunched up her face as she studied his likeness. "You can have him," she said and quickly handed the publication back to its owner.

Dorothy's jaw dropped. "What? You don't find him attractive? My God, you are dead. Or a lesbian."

Relena threw her friend a warning look. Persons of the masculine persuasion were not a topic she liked to discuss. "I'm still alive, and most definitely attracted to men, thank you. It's just…" Her gaze strayed back to the cover of the magazine in Dorothy's grip. "His eyes are so cold; it gives me chills to look at them. And you've heard the stories."

"Yeah yeah. Ruthless, robotic, never cracks a smile. You're probably right. A guy like him would be a cold fish in bed."

Relena looked up at the ceiling. "Uh-HUH. Well, I am sorry to ruin your wedding plans." She rolled her head to where she stared at Dorothy head on. "But you'll thank me later."

Her blond friend grimaced. "Ugh, I wasn't talking about marrying the guy. You know it'll take more than a hot guy with money to make me settle down." She huffed out a breath of air as she glanced up at the elevator display to see how much further they had to go. One more floor.

"Right," Relena answered in a harsh tone as the elevator finally came to a stop on her level.

Dorothy grinned. "I need a man with a large pe…"

The elevator chimed, cutting her off as the doors shushed open. "Portfolio?" Relena suggested absently, stepping out of the car and heading towards her office. It was still pretty early, but there were a smattering of employees milling about. 

"I was going to say something else… but a portfolio is important, too."

"DOROTHY!" Relena gasped out, halting in her tracks and turning to stare at her supposed friend. She gulped at the wicked smile currently displayed on the blonde's delicate features, knowing she had given the girl the reaction she wanted. The young Vice President of Peacecraft Computer Corporation frowned; she couldn't back down. "Are the size of a man's… assets all that matter to you?" 

"Well, that's not all. But it's necessary that he be… well endowed, or else I wouldn't even think of dating him." Her thin lips pressed into a smile as the two women stopped off at the small break room to grab a cup of coffee.

"How would you know?" Relena asked, turning wide eyes up to meet her friend's gaze.

Dorothy raised an eyebrow and turned up the corners of her mouth. "All I have to do is look at him and I can tell the size of a man's-" 

Relena could feel the blood rising to her cheeks as she realized that at least half a dozen of their co-workers were gathered around the coffee maker, listening intently to their conversation. Her friend must have noticed the young vice-president's intense blush because she continued the morning goading that had become almost routine between the two young women. Relena grabbed her coffee cup and continued at a brisk pace towards her office.

"Uncomfortable discussing the male anatomy? This is a surprise. But tell me, how did you make it through high school? Our biology teachers made us shout it out loud every day for three weeks straight."

"I went to an all girls' school. Besides…. it's not something that should be shouted out in this office."

"Ah, come on Relena. Say it just once"

"No," she seethed as she paused just long enough to throw open her office door and turn to shoot her friend a black look. Seemingly oblivious, Dorothy followed right behind and stretched out in one of leather executive-style chairs in the room. 

"It's a scientific term." She continued once Relena had shut the door. "I mean it's not like I'm asking you to say co-"

"That's quite enough." Relena moved to open the blinds on the window behind her large oak pedestal desk. She had her back turned to the room, and it helped to hide her expression.

Dorothy snickered. "Do tell me how you plan on handling it when you finally get into that situation with a man."

Relena visibly stiffened. "I'm sure that when it happens, I won't be required to call said appendage by name." The VP spun around.

"You do if you want any sort of relationship with it."

"I would ask how you handle it, but I'm afraid you might tell me."

"We're a bit testy this morning. Perhaps handling it is what you need." Dorothy huffed and crossed her arms.

Relena's mouth slanted up into a crooked line as her eyes narrowed at her friend. "I don't have time for a relationship, you know that." She sunk down into the chair behind her desk, and shuffled through some paperwork, glancing at the desktop calendar that lay beneath the documents.

"Who's talking about a relationship?"

Relena stopped and glared across the desktop. "Dorothy…"

The blond leaned forward in her seat. "Relationships are dull. They're too much work and too much bother. I'm talking about getting yourself a sexy guy that can make you feel good for a little while." She sipped at her coffee, smiling around the edge of the Styrofoam cup.

"Not really my style," Relena argued, and stood up from her chair.

Dorothy shook her head. "So disappointing."

The vice president turned to stare out the window again, eyeing the dark clouds that hung just outside, seemingly within her grasp. "I have work to do," she said, the hint obvious in her tone of voice. But her friend just ignored the subtle message.

"Oh, speaking of sexy guys…Still got that meeting with Red today?"

"Yes." She turned around and leaned over her desk. "And his name's not Red, it's Ran."

"Whatever. He's the kind of guy I'm talking about would be good for you." A slow grin spread across Dorothy's face. "Definitely hot, definitely someone who can make your toes curl."

"He's a business associate." Relena's voice rose, though she tried to keep up a calm façade. Dorothy could get under her skin, but if she let her know, the corporate attorney would never stop. "We have a business relationship." She stood up and walked to the other side of her desk, pretending to be interested in something on the bookshelf along the opposite wall.

"Tell me you have noticed his godliness, Relena, or I really am chalking you up as lesbo," Dorothy replied and took another sip of her coffee. Her intense eyes studied Relena's every move.

The young VP turned to scowl in her direction. "We work. We negotiate. He's attractive, but…" Relena stopped shuffling volumes, her hand clutching a Using the Alliance-ware OS** for Dummies book in a white-knuckle grip. "Why are we even having this conversation?" She turned back to the bookcase shoving one paperback after another to the side until she finally came upon the object of her search.

"I think you should sleep with him."

The legal reference guide on intellectual property law dropped to the floor with a loud bang. "WHAT?"  
Before the attorney could reply, the door hedged open, and another familiar, feminine face peeked into the room. "Excuse me, Relena? Oh, hi Dorothy, I didn't know you were in here."

Relena took a deep breath. She had been about to lose her cool in front of Dorothy. "Hitomi." Her smile wobbled as she greeted her friend. "Thank goodness; someone who's hormonally balanced."

The short-haired girl stopped just as she was about to shut the door all the way. "Uhhhh…Maybe I should come back later," she said, and began to open it again in order to leave.

"Oh, no, stay Hitomi," Dorothy called out, motioning for the athletic-looking marketing manager to come in. "I was just giving Relena a pep talk before her big meeting with Red."

Hitomi fanned herself with the file folder she was carrying, her short brown locks feathering in the self-created wind. "Oh. Well, some girls have all the luck."

Relena blinked, her eyes darting from one to the other. "What?"

Dorothy wagged a well manicured finger at the young VP. "See, told you, he's hot, Rel. You're dead if you don't want to sleep with him."

"Well, I don't know if I'd go that far," Hitomi said, a small frown forming above light green eyes. "But he is very sweet. And good looking." 

Relena stooped to pick up her book. "This is ridiculous." She walked the heavy, hard bound volume over to her desk. "It's a business meeting, and that's final." She turned back around, strained lines appearing around her eyes as she spoke to both women in a voice that was rising with every second. "I'm not sleeping with him, I'm not attracted to him." Her hands wrung themselves together as she strode towards the door, the idea to throw them both out forming in her mind. "I'm not anything but a business associate, and he our possible future client," Relena's voice had escalated to the point where she was practically yelling. She jerked hard on the office door and the three women were jolted by the sight of the unmistakable flaming red hair belonging to the man who was their current topic of discussion. The blond VP froze as she stared at him, her eyes slowly traveling down his well chiseled form clad casually in a v-neck sweater over fairly tight-fitting jeans. She caught herself and willed her mouth to speak. 

"Hello, Ran" Relena flashed him an unnaturally wide smile, doing her best not to sound flustered, despite the fact she knew he probably could hear every word through the door. She blinked as her right hand came up and grabbed tightly to the oak barrier, embarrassment tying her empty stomach into knots as she fought down her body's instinctive urge to turn her cheeks a bright red. "Can you give me just a moment?" 

The crimson locks nodded and he turned to take a seat in one of the chairs located just outside her office. Relena caught a rather nice view of his backside before she mentally slapped herself and effectively stopped her hormonal appraisal. She whirled around and leaned back against the door, unable to keep from blushing any longer as her heart pounded loudly in her chest. Her friend's smug smile brought her crashing back down to earth. She stood up from the door and glared at the corporate attorney.

"Dorothy Catalonia, I swear I'm so going to kill you. No more of these 'pep talks'…" Her hands flew up to either side of her head as she paced back towards her desk, agitation evident in every movement. She paused and stared at the door, her mind betraying her as it conjured up the vision of his very masculine body. Her voice dropped to a low whine. "Why on earth did he have to wear jeans that fit like that?" She moaned and slumped down into her chair. "It should be a crime." Her head came up and met two amused pairs of eyes. "Damn it!"

Dorothy and Hitomi snickered quietly. "Guess she's not dead."

Relena fixed them both with a withering stare before working on her relaxation techniques – techniques that she had learned from a professional for the sole purpose of dealing with Dorothy every day. "Okay, deep breath, and focus. Both of you out of my office now." She shot them both another scathing look. "I'll deal with you later."

"All right," Dorothy conceded and turned to go. As her hand came up to grip the doorknob, she glanced back over her shoulder. "But don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"I'm not going to do anything you WOULD do."

The attorney turned to face her friend once more. "You're no fun. Geez. There go all my hopes and dreams of living vicariously through you in the form of spoiling your children that I'd never be saddled with. Who will call my Aunt Dottie, now?" Her hands came up to rest on her hips, in what Relena deemed mock indignation. It was the blond girl's way of defusing the situation and letting the others know she hadn't been serious. Hitomi grinned and Relena visibly relaxed. 

"Get your butt out of my office, Aunt Dottie. And I never said I was going to have children."

Dancing blue eyes dimmed. "Relena, trust me."

"Your white knight will appear one day, sweep you off your feet, and marry you. He'll be the only one forever, and you will have children and a normal, happy life."

"That's very sweet, Hitomi."

"It's your horoscope in today's paper. That was what I came up here for – to read it to you." The marketing manager held out the daily edition towards her friend.

"Oh."

Dorothy snatched the paper from Hitomi's hand, bringing it close to her face, and pretended to pour over it. "What, and I can't believe it!" Dorothy teased. "At the bottom it says, 'and for Relena, this man is Ran Fu-'"

The sound of the vidphone ringing thankfully cut off the rest of Dorothy's sentence. "Out," Relena mouthed at her two friends as her brother's pale features came on screen. "Milliardo," she greeted him with a genuine smile. "Can you hold on one second?"

"Could you get him some coffee and tell him I'll be just a minute?" Relena asked the women who were finally in the process of exiting. "And don't touch."

"My my," Dorothy chided. "Possessive already?"

"No, I just know you. And you have some contracts to go over for my brother's meeting tomorrow and shouldn't be fawning over Ran's ass."

Hitomi shot Dorothy a wicked smile. "I wonder if he's a natural redhead…."

"OUT!" 

"What was that all about?" Milliardo asked, his familiar voice filling the room.

Relena let out a heavy breath. "Nothing."

"Well, I'm calling because we've hit a small snag."

"What kind of snag? Are you feeling all right?" Concern etched her features into a serious expression.  
"I'm fine. It seems, however, that Gundanium's officers are out in New York City, so I'll be flying in tonight – if my luck holds."

Relena frowned. "Brother, are you sure you should be traveling?"

"Everything will be fine." He smiled at his only sister. "I'll call you when I get in, we'll have lunch, then I'm meeting with Yuy for dinner."

Relena's eyebrows shot up and she sat back in her chair. "Ah, Heero Yuy himself, huh? That's a good sign."

Milliardo nodded. "I told you we went to high school together."

"Oh yeah. Well, I guess it's good he remembers you."

The Chief Executive Officer's face darkened at the mention. "We've both changed…"

Relena nodded. "I'm sure that's true. It'll be good to see an old friend. You can tell me about him at lunch tomorrow, okay? I'm sure Dorothy will want the full scoop on the new love of her life."

"Hn. I won't ask."

"It's probably best."

A short laugh escaped his colorless lips. "Yeah, I've learned with Dorothy, the less I know, the better off I am."

She smiled and then glanced down at the time stamp in the bottom right hand corner of the screen. "Oh, shoot. Well I'm really glad I'll be seeing you tomorrow brother dear, but I have to go. I have a meeting scheduled with Weiss right now. Take care of yourself, and I'll see you soon!"

"You take care, too, Relena."

"Love you, Milli."

"Love you too, squirt."

Relena made a face. "Argh. When will you stop calling me that?"

"When you're older than me." He chuckled. "Never."

She stuck her tongue out at his image.

"Go to your meeting," he said in his deep tone of voice reserved for times when he decided to act like a big brother.

"Yeah yeah, I'm going." 

"See you tomorrow squirt."

"See you tomorrow pinhead."

* * * * *

**Seattle International Airport**

**Cinq Airlines Terminal**

_ "Van, we don't have time for coffee," Heero growled, looking at his watch and then back at his friend whose bloodshot eyes were staring longingly at the espresso carte just beyond the security checkpoint. "When we get through here, we are going to have to run to the gate." He scowled as Vash walked through the metal detector and beeped for about the fifth time._

"Did you take everything out of your pockets, sir?" the burly female guard asked, eying him warily.

"I promise!" Vash whimpered, glancing back at the long line of people behind him, most especially Heero.

"Please step to the side."

"Anything you say, ma'am. Hey, just so you know, our flight leaves in-"

"Take off your shoes and lay your jacket on the table."

"Are ya gonna have to strip search me?"

Heero rolled his eyes, tuning Vash out and instead, listening to his fellow travelers whispering behind him.

"…yeah, searching that freaky blond guy…"

"… was definitely acting weird…"

"We can't take him anywhere," Van hissed. Their spiky-haired comrade was in the process of being patted down by security - and appeared to be enjoying it a little too much.

"Ma'am, if it's not too much to ask… a little more around the shoulders – I think I slept funny last night and I…"

"You can go." Her small black eyes shone menacingly from beneath her bushy eyebrows.

"That's it? After all we've meant to each other?"

"I said, you can go!"

"Yes'm…"

"Vash, get over here!" Van barked from a few feet away.

"Gotta go. You have a lovely day now, Miss Security Guard."

"Hmph."

"Vash!"

He wove his way through the crowds, finally catching up with the others.

"We have three minutes to make it to the end of the terminal!" Quatre breathed, looking at his watch.

Vash leapt ahead, leading the sprinting men. "Well, we would have been at the checkpoint sooner if we didn't have to make three trips to the car for all of somebody's suitcases."

"Hey!" Van heaved, barely evading a luggage cart and leaping over someone's duffel bag. "You never know what you might need!"

"Riiiiiiiiight…."

"Attention passengers. This is our final boarding call for Cinq Airlines flight 001, non-stop service to Newark International Airport."

The four disheveled men stumbled to a halt before the gate, handing the attendant their now rumpled boarding passes. The large metal door closed behind them as they trudged down the jetway towards the plane. The sound echoed in their ears, all silently lost in their own thoughts as they squeezed their bags into the overhead compartments and settled into their seats. 

_There's no going back now…_

_ Vash did his best to arrange his long legs comfortably in their confined space. "I really miss that jet," he mumbled aloud, earning another withering glance from Van. "But there is an upside to all this," he added with a grin._

"And what could that possibly be?" Van growled from his place in front of Vash.

The red-clad man smiled, watching a tall, buxom, and very blond flight attendant hurry passed. Van followed his friend's gaze. "Aren't you forgetting something?" 

Vash scowled at the thought of the 'no women' clause in the pact. Hey, but this wasn't cheating… well, not really. He turned away, but his eyes lit up when he saw her heading back his way. "Oh miss?" He looked up at her with wide green eyes upon her return. She stopped.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"I can't seem to get my seatbelt to buckle, would you mind?"

"Certainly not," she smiled, her hands brushing against his thighs as she fastened the buckle for him.

A buffoonish grin consumed his features.

"Could I also trouble you for a pillow, and maybe a blanket?"

"Of course."

She tucked the pillow gently behind his head, and unfolded the blanket for him.

"Oh, thank you miss. You just made my day."

"I'll bet," Van spat.

"And can you please get my friend some coffee? He's a real dragon*** without his caffeine fix."

Quatre blinked, waking to the sound of lulling jet engines and bright light reflecting off the clouds and pouring into the small window by his seat. _I wonder how long I've been asleep? As his eyes re-adjusted, he could see Heero paging through the Columbia course book, pausing every so often to look over descriptions and requirements. _

"So, have you given any thought to what you're going to study, Heero?" Quatre asked with a yawn, peering through the space between the seats in front.

Heero shook his head and handed the catalog back to Quatre, who eagerly flipped it open. "I thought I'd like to learn about art – maybe music… or philosophy."

"Well, gee. If you're studying art, we could always take an educational trip to Paris and see the Louvre!" Vash offered. "The jet will be there after all."

"No vacations," Quatre reminded him.

Van's eyes narrowed at the mention of the plane. "Heero, I think we should just sell it."

"Hey!" Vash cut in. "Don't I have any say in this? I happen to have a lot of fond memories on that jet."

"Oh, cool it, Vash. No one wants to hear about your adventures in the Mile High Club."

"Mile High Club?" Quatre blinked, his blue eyes questioning his friend from across the row.

Streaks of red crept onto Vash's cheeks.

"Trust me," Heero said. "You don't want to know."

"Oh…" Quatre mumbled.

A woman's voice crackled over the intercom.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are preparing to make our final descent into the Newark area. To your right, you can see New York City. Please prepare for landing."

The four friends were quiet for a moment, listening to the sounds of the other passengers shifting in their seats, buckling seat belts, and putting away tray tables. A stewardess walked passed and Vash's head turned as his eyes followed her figure down the aisle.

Quatre's face suddenly darkened to a deep, rich red. 

"Mile high cl-... Oh, not in the jet, Vash!" He gasped.

Vash could feel his ears burning. He turned and smiled sheepishly at his scandalized friend.

From the seat in front, the unmistakable and exasperated "slap" of Van's palm connecting with his forehead resounded as the black hair shook from side to side.  
"I told you, Quatre," Van mumbled, face shielded by his hand. "You didn't want to know."

"Hey look you guys!" Vash shouted, nearly crawling over Quatre and pressing his face against the tiny window. "There's the Empire State Building! We're here. We're really here!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

**Rose's guide to Stella's somewhat corny, somewhat tongue-in-cheek fare: **

Stella: HEY!

Rose: I call it like it is. :-P

* 60 billion. Vash says that Van mentioned 60 billion times how much he (Van) hates Allen Schezar (with good reason…DAMMIT HITOMI, no kissing anyone but Van!!!!). *ahem* Anyway, the reference to 60 billion coincides with the 60 billion double-dollar bounty (reward) offered for the arrest and capture of the outlaw, Vash the Stampede in the anime series Trigun. 60 billion double dollars is denoted as $$60,000,000,000. 

*** Dragon. Vash says that Van can be a real dragon without his caffeine fix. (sheesh, no kidding). The reference to a dragon is a direct reference to the fact that Van's Guymelef (aka mobile suit for Gundam fans) named Escaflowne is also a dragon (it transforms from dragon to guymelef and vice versa).

And now, Rose's actual, real reference of her own:

** Alliance-ware OS. As in: Relena picked up the Using Alliance-ware OS for Dummies book off the shelf. 

The best real life example I can give you is to sort of associate the Zero Operating System with Windows, and the Alliance-ware Operating System (Operating System is denoted as OS for short) with Linux. That's for you software-savvy people. 

For the not-so-software savvy…it's okay. We try not to go into too much detail on stuff that will boggle the mind - so basically, all you NEED to know about this is that Alliance-ware is for all intents and purposes a competitor to Gundanium's Zero Operating System (Z/OS) software.

We will get more into that later, but I wanted to make note now, so that everyone will know what the manual Relena picked up was for. ^__^

Hmmmm….so, Stella, should we add a preview for the nice people following our fic?

Stella: **glares at Rose** 

Rose: She's still mad I called her jokes corny. Ah well…. Let's see what I can put together as far as a **preview to ch. 3….**

_Mr. Yuy, I'm so sorry to bother you, sir. I know you said not to call unless it was an emergency, but the man said that if you didn't meet him he'd be really upset. And so I think you really should meet him since he is our number one client and all, although it's not technically a matter of life and death to any particular person, it could be very bad for the company. _

_So, anyway, you're supposed to meet him for dinner tomorrow night in New York City. He's going all the way there just to meet with you. Well, and also to see his sister, he said. He's very nice, Mr. Yuy, I know you said you don't like him, but, really, I don't know why not. I guess it's lucky you all chose New York City since they do have an office there that his sister is in charge of. He wasn't nearly as upset as he could have been to find out you weren't here. _

_Oh, I'd better go, there's another call. Hope you're having fun. Say hello to Mr. Vash for me. Bye!_

Heero turned to glare at his friend. "Quatre."

"Yes, Heero?"

"Who is our largest client at the moment?"

"In the third quarter of this year, Peacecraft Computer Corp. was officially the largest distributor of Z/OS on all their home-based systems. However, we have practically zero share, no pun intended, of their very lucrative server division," Van recited from memory.

"Something we've been trying to remedy for some time," Quatre added.

"Yeah, but our relationship with PCC isn't very good since you and Mr. Peacecraft hate each other."

"Ah. My dinner meeting."

And just to be evil…a **preview to chapter 4**

"I'm afraid it's not that simple. This is of the utmost importance in deciding whether or not we'll begin offering Z/OS on our newest line of servers debuting at the MO-II event next month. Our VP of operations is heading up the project and insists that bundling your operating system on our new systems instead of Alliance-ware is the only way to go. However, after Weiss was able to demonstrate so many security holes…"

"Version 7.2 fixed those errors," Heero cut in.

"Yes, so your company claims. However, I still have some reservations, and there are a few…changes that need to be made, as well as a licensing agreement drawn up. Since I will be unable to attend our meeting this evening, I will be sending the project manager to go over the specific clauses of our contract with you."

"That's fine. What's his name?"

Milliardo's voice crackled a bit, no doubt due to the bad reception on his cell phone. "Our VP of operations is my sister, Yuy."


	4. Welcome to NY

Love's Labours Lost

by Stella and the Black Rose

Disclaimer: We do not own Gundam Wing, Escaflowne, Trigun, Weiss Kreuz, or Andrew Talon. This fan fiction has no commercial value and we am not making any kind of profit or income off of this.

Chapter 3

Heero had never been one for crowds. He hated them, in fact. Second on his list of least favorite things had to be cold weather. He was used to bleak and dreary Seattle winters filled with day after day of rain and rain and…more rain, and was long familiar with spending most of the winter indoors. 

Not like it had ever been a difficult task. Work was inside his office and his house, where the heater was in tiptop condition, and his driver always had the car fully warmed for his commute. But this was not Seattle. And looking around at the masses of people crammed into the Newark airport baggage claim area for Cinq Airways brought him to two conclusions: 1 – that New York City was not the place to be to avoid crowds, and 2 – that judging from the way everyone else was bundled up, and the general chill that was already nipping at his exposed skin, it was damn cold outside. He scowled and reached into his duffel bag to retrieve his cell phone. He was going to need Millie to send him some of his winter clothing along with the status reports she would be mailing next week.

Before he could make the call, however, the phone display blinked, then illuminated the little message icon signaling he had voice mail. Heero frowned at the little gadget in his hand. Millie had been given strict orders that she wasn't supposed to call unless it was a matter of life and death. It had been what, ten hours since they left Seattle? 

He was ripped from his thoughts by the sight of his suitcases making the round on the luggage carousel, and stepped forward to collect them.

* * * * *

The scream of car horns reverberated against the airport building behind them, blending in a strange, minor harmony that held a distinctly urban sound. The winter air bit the flesh of his knuckles, turning them red and numb; he gasped in frosty breaths as his body tried to adjust to the cold. _Whose brilliant idea was __New York City__ in the middle of winter? He released his bags at the curb and jammed his hands into his pockets, desperate for warmth._

"So where are we going?" A shivering blond asked from the corner of his vision. _Hair not spiky, must be Quatre. His mind fought against the cold to keep working._

"I arranged for a apartment near campus. It should be sufficient for our needs, nothing too elaborate." His lips were already splitting and beginning to feel sore. 

"What kind of car did you get?" Van came over and joined the small huddle, dancing from one toe to the other as he spoke.

"We're in New York City, we don't need a car."

"We have to walk?" Vash's wild mane suddenly bobbed in front of his face.

"Or take a cab," Heero bit out, fighting not to let his teeth chatter. "Trust me, you don't want to drive."

Vash scrunched up his face at the suggestion, but stood still, his emerald eyes eagerly devouring the new sights around them. He seemed wholly unaffected by the cold. Heero thought that if he tried to wrinkle his skin like that, it would crack and fall off. 

Vash turned back to face his friends. "I don't want to ride in a cab, either. Those guys can't drive, can't speak English, and will totally screw you if they know you're not from the area."

"Just tell them you swore off men, too." Van smirked as he razzed his friend.

Vash scowled. "Ha…ha…"

"They can't be worse than Van," Quatre spoke up from under the hood of his jacket.

"Hey!" 

"I'm with Quatre," Vash admitted. "I saw my life flash before my eyes when you drove us to that meeting last week! It was pretty depressing, too," the blond pouted. "No women, no booze, oh wait…that's my life NOW."

"Shut up." Van spat through his clicking jaw.

"Oh, hey! There's my ride," Vash grinned and pointed at the silver, ten passenger limousine that had just pulled up at the curb a few feet away. He started toward the sleek automobile, only to come to a screeching halt as someone caught his shirt collar from behind and tugged – HARD.

"No extravagance." Heero growled, keeping his fistful of Vash's shirt as he pushed his friend in the opposite direction – towards a cab that was coming to a stop in the middle of the street. It was blocking traffic, which prompted a medley of car horn blasts accompanied by lyrical shouts of "Up yours, pal!" The driver, however, appeared unfazed as he waddled around the side to open the trunk of the car.

"Hey, boss, I can't breathe!"

Heero released his grip on Vash's shirt and tossed his bags into the back. "Get in the car."

"Ah man! We're taking more than one, right?"

"No, shove your stuff in the trunk and let's go. I don't want to give directions twice, and besides, we're on a budget now."

"I like that car better," Vash whined, pointing back to the limo. "We're going to be squooshed…"

"Shotgun!" Van called out, attempting to stuff the last of his bags in the cab's small trunk.

"What? No way!" Vash rushed to the front of the car, ready to stake his claim. "I get car sick." He pulled open the door and started to sit inside. "If anyone should ride in the front…" 

"It will be me," Heero cut in, his right arm snatched the top of the door frame before Vash could shut it. "I have to call in to Millie and make sure everything's all right."

"What happened to no business?" Vash asked, his fingers flexing on the metal handle as he held his ground.

"Unfortunately, we still have to be somewhat on hand in case of emergency."

"And you think there's an emergency?" The red-clad man rose and crossed his arms, but stood fast between the open door and the car - still barring Heero's advance towards the front seat.

"I have one missed call on my phone, Millie's the only one not present that has the number, and I told her it had better be a matter of life and death if she disturbed me. So, yes, I think there's an emergency."

"Oh. Mr. Logical strikes again." Vash turned up his nose and glared at Heero from the corner of his eye.

"Hn. Do you want a company to go back to? Get out of the way."

"All right, fine. But I need a window seat in case I have to throw up."

Van leaned out from his place in the rear of the taxi. "Vash, stop being such a wimp."

"Do you want my kosher meal and peanuts all over your lap?" 

Van abandoned his frown momentarily as he stared up at the man leaning on the car door. "Why _did_ you get a kosher meal? You're not Jewish."

Vash tucked both hands behind his head and started towards the backseat. "Just like to keep those airline people on their toes."

"I'm sure they appreciate that. Get in the car and let's go."

"Hell-oh, mister cab-driver man. And how are you doing to-day?" Vash greeted the person behind the wheel as he slid into the back. He looked up into hostile, dark brown eyes glaring at him in the rearview mirror. 

"Ehhhh heh heh. I mean…I was just kidding."

"Git your ass in the cahr mister funny man."

"Yes sir!"

Vash's head bounced off the backseat as the cab shot forward, narrowly missing a hotel shuttle and cutting off a black Mercedes and another taxi. Leaving screeching tires and blaring horns in their wake, they were finally on their way into the city. He slowly opened his eyes and peered cautiously out the window. Leaning forward, he tentatively tapped the driver's shoulder. "I'm no expert, mister taxi driver sir, but aren't you supposed to drive on one side or the other of that yellow line there? I don't think we're supposed be riding in the middle of it."

"Whose drivin this freakin cab?"

"Um, you are…."

"Thas right. Ah'm drivin it. So keep yur mouth shut!"

Green eyes turned to look at dark-haired man next to the driver. "Boss, he's scarier than you are. Hey!" Vash cried out as Heero's hand came up and pushed against his face, shoving him backwards into his seat. The President of G.L.L.C. didn't even let go of the cell phone he held to his ear while he waited for Millie's voice to inform him of the latest crisis. 

"Jerk," Vash grumbled and shot daggers at the back of his friend's head.

_Mr. Yuy, I'm so sorry to bother you, sir. I know you said not to call unless it was an emergency, but the man said that if you didn't meet him he'd be really upset. And so I think you really should meet him since he is our number one client and all, although it's not technically a matter of life and death to any particular person, it could be very bad for the company. _

_So, anyway, you're supposed to meet him for dinner tomorrow night in __New York City__. He's going all the way there just to meet with you. Well, and also to see his sister, he said. He's very nice, Mr. Yuy, I know you said you don't like him, but, really, I don't know why not. I guess it's lucky you all chose __New York City__ since they do have an office there that his sister is in charge of. He wasn't nearly as upset as he could have been to find out you weren't here. _

_Oh, I'd better go, there's another call. Hope you're having fun. Say hello to Mr. Vash for me. Bye!_

"Errrrrg." Heero growled while the recording ended. Millie was very intelligent, most of the time, but she had her air-headish tendencies to forget key details when leaving him messages – things like the man's name whom he was supposed to be meeting, where they were meeting, and why he had called. His face contorted at the seemingly innocent phone as if it was the one responsible. Nothing had gone right today. 

"What's up?" Van asked from the back seat.

"Not sure. All I know is I have a dinner meeting tomorrow night somewhere in the greater metropolis of New York City."

"Another one of Millie's voice mail messages, huh?" Van guessed.

"Yes," Heero answered in a dark tone. "She says to tell 'Mr. Vash' hello."

"Hellooo!"

Heero turned and glared at his friend, but then shifted his gaze to the man on the other side of the car.

"Quatre."

"Yes, Heero?"

"Who is our largest client at the moment?"

The marketing director pounced on the question before Quatre could open his mouth. "In the third quarter of this year, Peacecraft Computer Corp. was officially the largest distributor of Z/OS on all their home-based systems. However, we have practically zero share, no pun intended, of their very lucrative server division." 

"Something we've been trying to remedy for some time," Quatre added. "But our relationship with PCC isn't very good since you and Mr. Peacecraft hate each other."

"Ah. My dinner meeting." Heero rolled his eyes.

Van leaned forward. "You're meeting Milliardo Peacecraft for dinner tomorrow night?"

"According to the clues Millie left, yes."  
"What did she say?"

"Something to the effect that our number one client called and will be meeting me for dinner tomorrow night. Someone she knew I disliked."

"Yep. That's gotta be him," Van sat back into his seat, crossing his arms again and occasionally throwing a sidelong glare in Vash's direction. "Wonder what he wants." 

Heero drummed his fingers on the taxi's greasy armrest and stared at his phone. "Whatever it is has to be important if he's willing to travel all the way to New York City."  
"They do have offices out here," Quatre said. "Maybe he was heading out this direction anyway, Heero."

"Or maybe they want to start offering our new server software on their systems. Their hold on the server market slipped a bit last quarter compared to others offering Z/OS Server," Van suggested.

Heero shook his head. "Doubtful. They've been the biggest supporter of Alliance-ware forever. At one point, they tried to get Noventa to write a GUI1 interface for it to run on their home PCs so that they wouldn't have to use Z/OS at all."

"Yeah," Van nodded. "I've often wondered why it was that didn't happen."

Quatre looked from one man to the other. "Supposedly, one of their high-ranking officers recommended against it. Their CEO did an about-face on the issue, and the next thing anyone knew, PCC was number one in the industry – well, in the home and small business servers. Krushrenada Systems still has the hold on the high-end, million-transactions-per-second market."

"Hn." _Where does he get this stuff?_

Vash, getting bored with counting the cigarette burns in the seat upholstery, turned inquisitive eyes on the man in the front seat. "Hey, Heero, why do you and Mr. Peacecraft hate one another?"

Heero exhaled through his nose as he tightened his grip on the cell phone. "He's an idiot. He wouldn't know a computer from a hole in the ground. He's a businessman, not a computer expert."

Van smirked. "He used to pick on Heero when we were in high school, remember?"

Vash's jaw dropped. "Geez, that was years ago. I didn't know you were the type to hold a grudge, Heero."

"I'm not. I really couldn't care less." The GLLC president fixed his attention on the city street just outside the window. "He's the one that insists on carrying his dislike of me into the business world. Which isn't very smart business."

Vash's eyes drooped closed. "Uhhhhng…" He moaned as the driver swerved to avoid an unlucky pedestrian.

"What's wrong Vash?" Quatre asked.

"How much longer 'til we get there?" Their usually boisterous friend gulped slow, even breaths.

"Another ten miles or so. Our place is uptown. Why?"

"I don't feel so good."

Van gave a hard look to the man sitting next to him, noticing his complexion had taken on an ashen hue. "Roll your window down if you have to puke, Vash. If you throw up on me, I swear I'll kill you."

"Thanks, you're a real pal," he groaned, languidly reaching for the switch on the door. "Oh man, the window won't roll down!"

"That window's busted," the driver barked. "The one on the other side works."

"You're just going to have to hold on" Van insisted. "I'm not kidding, I really will kill you if you throw up on me."

"I need air!" Vash cried, crawling over Van. "Quatre, roll down the window. Please!"

"Vash, get off of me! What the hell are you…"

"It's freezing out there!" the other blond said, shivering at the thought of letting the cold air in. "Can't you just hold on for another couple of miles?"

"I'm not kidding you guys!" Vash shouted, flopping across the two other men and desperately grasping for the window control on Quatre's side.

The car lurched forward as it came to a stop, and Vash's complexion turned a ghastly shade of green. Just in time, he threw the door open and vomit spewed onto the steaming city street.

"Ugh! Vash…" Quatre turned his head, locking eyes with Van.

"Well, this adventure is off to a fantastic start," he seethed. "We nearly missed our flight; Vash is likely to spew on us at any moment; and before we even land, Heero was scheduled to have dinner with the least agreeable of our clients…" 

"No, Van – actually I think that Treize is the least agreeable of our clients. He's an ass."

"Quatre!" Vash's head popped up as the door closed. The cab rolled ahead and Vash rested his head on his friend's knee. "I can't believe I heard those words come out of your mouth. That's so..so…impolite!"

A dangerous look stole over the usually mild-mannered Financial Officer's features. "Well, the last time we attended a charity function, he was hitting on Iria2, in front of his wife. I was so angry; I wanted to punch him in the mouth. And poor Iria, she couldn't get rid of him to save her life."

"Man," Vash said, picking himself up and scooting back to his own side of the cab. "I wonder how his wife puts up with him. Anybody have some gum?"

"His money," Van answered, fishing in his pocket and handing a few pieces to Vash."

"That's gotta be it."

"She's another one of those society women," Heero spoke up from the front seat.

"Yeah, like Millerna," Van said in a low voice, his eyes staring at the gummy off-color carpet in the backseat of the cab.

"She's not worth your time, Van." Heero turned to glance at his friend. "You ought to be glad you came to your senses when you did – before she cleaned out your bank account. 

"She and that Schezar guy deserve each other," Vash said, the mint from the chewing gum momentarily quelling the turmoil in his gut. "He did you a favor, if you ask me."

"I don't get it," Van shrugged. "On the one hand, we're regarded as social lepers – the computer geeks completely oblivious to societal norms and not fit for any respectable woman. On the other, we've got every female trying to earn a living on her back clamoring for our bank accounts. It's frustrating. Why can't there be any decently intelligent, attractive women out there that…."

"Would be a complete distraction and violation of our agreement." Heero finished.

Vash crossed his arms and sneered. "Dream wrecker."

"We agreed."

"But Heero…" Vash whined. "What if we…ya know…NEED…."

The cab driver snorted, his tiny eyes finding the tall blond's reflection in his mirror. "Sounds like yous better git used to datin your hand."

Vash blanched and threw the back of the cab driver's head a withering glare. "No one asked you." He crossed his arms and settled back in his seat, closing his eyes against the nauseating sway of the automobile. They would be at the apartment in a moment….

* * * * * *

Daylight had hedged into early evening, taking its effect on numerous things in its path. Relena's suit jacket had been unbuttoned and discarded; her hair torn from its upswept design, now cascaded in golden waves around her oval-shaped face. No matter how long they had taken up the private booth at Vassani's restaurant, Ran still hadn't budged on the issue at hand.

"So, you're telling me there is no possible way to make this work?"

Intense blue eyes stared into hers, unyielding in their intelligence and probably anything else their owner decided to pursue. "It's not impossible. It's just more difficult."

She nodded, leaning in closer to the man who shared the table. "I understand that, but…"

"Is there anything else I can get you Miss Peacecraft?"

Relena blinked. That strange maitre'd had been showing up at the most inconvenient of times – always red-faced, as if blushing, his mop of brown hair looking like it needed a good combing, and half-hiding his forest green eyes. He had introduced himself when they walked in…what was his name? "Ummmm, I could use a refill on my iced tea, Mr. Talon 3."

"Andrew, Miss Peacecraft. May I call you Relena?" He asked and took her hand, bringing it up to his lips in a chivalrous gesture. 

"I…"

Ran glowered at the interruption, looking up from the paperwork sprawled across the table. "Do your job and bring the lady some tea."

"I'm…yes sir, right away." His eyes darted quickly towards the floor.

"That was…odd," Relena mumbled, watching the tuxedo-clad Mr. Talon depart.

"No," Ran reasoned, pushing the papers aside and focusing on Relena's face. "You've caught quite a few admiring glances since we've entered the restaurant."

"Hadn't noticed."

"So I noticed."

Relena glanced up and met his eyes, observing for the first time how deep the color seemed to bleed into his soul. For a moment, she saw something spark in his gaze, causing a rush of blood mixed with cold air to sweep over her body. She looked away, a lump catching in her throat as she tried to find something to say. She hadn't lied to Dorothy and Hitomi, she found Ran attractive – very attractive. But this was business, and it had to come first. She couldn't afford to let herself get swept away by some hormonal fascination with a man she didn't know very much about personally. But perhaps there would be time later…

"So," she said in a quiet voice, her eyes focused on the paperwork in front of her. "Not impossible?"

"Just more difficult." 

Relena blushed at the implication, and tried to steer the conversation back to the contract. "But you can make it work?"

A brief pause caused her to look up from the fascinating table cloth. His dark glare had lifted, though his brow still knit itself together beneath his flaming red hair. "What's in it for me?"

Relena's hand came to rest on the bundle of papers. "The compensation is fully outlined on page…"

"I've read it."

"I see," she said, sitting back. "You're very subtle."

"No, I've been subtle," Ran corrected. "You haven't seemed to notice."

"I…I've got a lot riding on this contract. I just haven't had the time for anything more personal."

Ran rose to his feet very suddenly, stuffing his hands in both pockets of his long black trench coat. Relena's chest tightened at the thought that she might have offended him. 

"I'll have Omi forward a list of requirements to your office. If Gundanium will make the changes, then we can discuss this further. If not, we'll go back to the original proposal based on the Alliance-ware platform."

Relena nodded, noticing that his rigid posture slackened when he met her gaze.

"GLLC will never agree."

"My brother has a history with Mr. Yuy," Relena said, gathering her paperwork. "We're hoping that he'll cooperate with us if we promise his company just compensation."

"Hn. I wouldn't place too many of my hopes in Heero Yuy. But we can still make this work with Alliance-ware."

"I know, Ran," she smiled. "And I appreciate your willingness to work with us on this."

He nodded once in her direction. "Call me when you're ready to discuss the alternatives."

"You're very sure of yourself."

"I just know Heero Yuy," her companion's mouth twisted into a crooked line; he held the dining room door for her as they made their way out of the restaurant. "His business tactics are callous, and the reason why we have a PC industry based on a few large makers instead of several smaller businesses. PCC, if it was just starting out today and having to depend on Z/OS, would be out of business by the end of next year." 

"You know a lot about them," Relena observed as the two stepped into the elevator for the long ride down.

"Hn," her companion replied just as the elevator car began its descent to the bottom of the Empire State Building, plunging the two occupants into silence.

Relena glanced sideways at the man, studying him. In the short time she had spent in his company – at more than one of these lengthy meetings – she knew almost nothing about his past, but quite a bit about his personality. He was a very kind person despite the dark glare he typically wore on his handsome features. 

Maybe getting to know him on a more personal level wouldn't be such a bad idea. Maybe she could handle dating him and working with him. It was a lot of maybe's, but if there was any man she was willing to take a risk with, it would be him. And it had been a long while since she had gone on anything close to a date. 

_I've already rejected him once, so I'll have to be the one to ask him out. _

The elevator finally stopped, and the two business associates alighted and made their way out to the front of the historical building. "Thank you for a lovely afternoon," she said. The sun had only recently set, the days at their shortest during the bitter winter season.

Ran nodded, his eyes hidden in the dark shadows beneath the street light. "Take a cab. You shouldn't walk alone."

"I…" She took a deep breath of freezing cold air. _Damn, I suck at being forward – that's Dorothy's department. "Ran?"_

"Yes."

The chill of the night was combated by the blood rushing to her face. "Are you…are you busy a week from this Saturday?"

"I'll check my calendar."

"Okay. It's just…PCC is sponsoring a charity casino night and silent auction that evening." Her eyes flicked up to meet his for an instant before fixing themselves on the soot-gray city sidewalk.

"Your office already sent us an invitation."

"Yes."

"Was there something else?"

"Are you…" She swallowed and hoped he couldn't see her crimson complexion in the poor light. "Planning to join us?"

He stepped forward, his hand coming up to twist a single strand of wavy blond hair caressing pallid, cold-flushed cheeks. Their winter breaths mingled in the frosty air, his blue eyes twinkling mysteriously in the silver lamplight. "It depends. Are you asking me to escort you?"

She lifted her face at his touch, convinced that his cold fingers had to be able to feel the fire in her cheeks. "People will talk, but I thought it might be…fun."

"You want to make this something more personal?"

"I'd like to get to know you better."

"Hn," Ran replied and stepped back. He turned away, calling out over his shoulder. "You even negotiate your dates."

A nervous chuckle escaped her lips. "I'm sorry."

He spun back around, but she couldn't see his face. "Don't be. I accept."

She smiled at his retreating form before taking a steadying breath. _Dorothy will be proud, she said to herself, her body shivering with the cold. She held out a hand to wave down a taxi and climbed inside its wonderful warmth. Ran was intelligent, handsome in a brooding sort of way, and most of all, interested – he'd made that fairly clear today. They even had several things in common - not the least of which was apparently a similar situation with their respective only-siblings. It was his admission today that had changed the course of their afternoon, and…_

"Where to, lady? Or did you want me to just drive around all night until I run outta gas?"

Flustered, Relena gave him her home address, chiding herself for getting lost in her thoughts of Ran and all-around juvenile behavior. 

_He's already distracting me, she realized with a small frown, then thought about all the work she had to get done over the next two weeks. __And I can't allow that to happen. __Not now…. _

"What have I done?"

* * * * * *

The outside of the building holding hadn't looked like much, and the interior managed to live up to all of its mediocre promises. The entryway to the apartment was scuffed and brittle; the once beautiful oak flooring appeared dry and cracked beneath the bare bulb lighting, and continued into the main living area, lying beneath a dusty, brown velvet couch and a single coffee table that wore its years like a middle-aged crone. Three men glanced around the furnished apartment, noting every flaw with their inspection. The fourth didn't seem to care; he paced back and forth along the trodden floor, completely oblivious to his friends' growing objections.

"Yes, yes, Millie I gathered that. Milliardo Peacecraft…"

"So, what do we want to do for dinner?" Van asked, dropping his bags just inside the door to their new home while Heero grilled their poor secretary from three thousand miles away.

"I say we should order a pizza!" Vash suggested, having recovered from his time in the taxi. "There's got to be a zillion pizza joints in this city."

Quatre moved into the living room, his hands scouring the surface of the wall in search of a light switch. "I thought perhaps we should celebrate. Maybe go somewhere nice…"

"Celebrate what?" Vash frowned. "Forced celibacy for three years?" His look softened and his eyes turned heavenward as if searching for an angel of mercy to take pity on him. "Three years…."

Heero's voice echoed from the next room as he ventured down the hallway. "I understand that Millie. But what did he say? No, I'm not going to get mad at you – unless you don't tell me word for word what it was he said."

"Geez, I'm glad we don't have to conduct any business while we're on this trip," Vash observed, sarcasm dripping from the words. He stared at the dull and very brown furniture in the living room. Boring… He'd need to head out to the nearest home store and pick up some pink flamingos and racing Christmas lights.

"It's not his fault," Van said, interrupting his friend's mental redecorating. "We can't afford not to jump when PCC calls. You know that."

"Yeah, yeah. So what time do we have to register for classes tomorrow?"

Quatre scratched his head. "Ahhhhh…Noon, I…"

"Millie, I need to know exactly what he said," Heero shouted, charging back in their direction. "What were his words? Because if it's some trivial contract thing, just send me the revised version to veto. This is our software, and they abide by our rules."

Vash's eyes followed his friend as he once again stormed out of the room. "There he goes again. Same as ever. We hold the all the cards, so the computer makers have to bend to us."

"It's smart business," Van cut in.

"Yeah, it is – I guess. But I can't help but feel bad sometimes."

"You don't seem to feel too bad about cashing your check."

"You know I donate a lot of it to charity, Van." Vash spat, dragging his suitcases further into the room. "I think that remark was uncalled for."

Van blinked. "Charity? What charity?"

"You know…" the programmer said, counting off on his fingers. "Like disadvantaged children, feeding the homeless, finding cures for diseases – things to help other people. Charities, Van."

"Bleeding heart liberal," Van groaned. "Fine, I take it back."

"Gee, thanks. I feel so much better, now."

"Millie!" Heero came back into view, this time stopping at the set of French doors leading out to a small balcony, giving them a dazzling view of the skyscrapers downtown. "WHERE am I supposed to meet him for dinner and WHEN? This city has millions of people and probably thousands of restaurants. What am I supposed to do go from door to door looking for the arrogant ass?"

Vash knew that tone of Heero's voice – and the effect it had on whichever poor soul was at the receiving end of it. "3-2-1…"

Heero stopped his death march and threw his head back to stare up at the ceiling. "Uhhhhng. Don't cry… I hate it when you cry." He brought one hand up to rub roughly over his face. "All right. I'm sorry," the dark-haired man relented. "I'll call him and find out myself. Just…take the rest of the day off or something. Yes, I'll tell him. Bye."

Heero turned around, his eyes squinted in irritation as he let out a long breath. He fixed a hostile glare on one of his friends. "Millie says hello, Mr. Vash."

Vash grinned. "Hellooo."

"She's not on the phone anymore," Heero growled, holding up the darkened cell.

"I know. But it's only polite to respond to a greeting with a similar one."

"Then do it on your own time." The GLLC president spun on his heel and stalked out of the room, heading towards the far end of the hall. The two guestrooms and guest baths lay down that corridor, the master bedroom and study were arranged on the other end of the apartment. 

"Sheesh! What's gotten into him?" Vash asked, leaning back against the kitchen bar, and eyeing Heero's retreat warily. He turned to face Van and Quatre still standing near the entryway. "He's been super-ultra-mega grouchy since we left Seattle. I can just imagine him in three years – he'll have mutated into a living, breathing, slimy, Oscar the Grouch, and no one will believe he was once the world's greatest computer genius. They'll think he was always this hideous, green, yelling, grumpy…thing. And then we'll never get him laid so that he'll change back into his once-charm…well, once not-quite-as-irritable self."

"Are you done?"

Vash blanched and turned to meet the source of the voice that had crept up behind him through the double-entry kitchen. "Uhhhhh…Hi, boss. Nice place, dontcha think?"

"It's adequate, Heero said, his eyes giving their new place a brief going over. "And it has one feature I'm especially fond of right now."

"Really? What's that?"

"A very uncomfortable sofa bed. Your new place of residence. Van and Quatre, you get the two guest rooms. I'll take the master."

"Thanks a lot."

"Anytime."

* * * * * *

His three friends tried their best to push the stubborn software mogul out of the apartment. They were all starving, but their 'fearless leader' was the lone holdout on their plan to eat at the famous Vassani's restaurant on the 86th floor of the Empire State Building.

"This is completely contrary to our budget idea. The only way we can avoid extravagance is to put ourselves on a budget." Heero was beginning to feel like a missionary trying to convert a group of unrelenting heathens.

"It isn't an extravagance," Vash rationalized. "It's a celebration."

"Celebration isn't necessary, it's…"

Vash clapped a hand oh his friend's shoulder. "Did I say celebration? I meant it's a mission to scope out neutral territory for your important meeting tomorrow. I mean how can one have a business meeting in the heart of New York City at anything but the most famous and most expensive restaurant in the metropolitan area?"

"He's right," Van agreed.

"Definitely," Quatre added.

Heero looked from one to the other, his 'loyal friend' side getting the better of him for the moment. He let out a languid breath. "Hn. Fine, if that's what you want. We'll go."

"Can we even get reservations?" Quatre wondered aloud.

Vash snorted. "Can WE get reservations? WE are on the cover of the Bernadelli Financial Weekly's edition on billionaires under twenty-five. I think WE can get reservations anywhere WE choose."

"Then do it," Heero ordered, retreating to his room. "But if I have to wait more than five minutes for a table then I'm eating at whatever pizza joint is within walking distance. And 'Mr. Peacecraft' will be given the same treatment."

"Well, aren't we Mr. High and mighty all of a sudden? Sheesh put the man's picture on one magazine cover, and suddenly he has an attitude."

Heero turned and glared at Vash. 

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Can't even take a joke…."

"Van, what's the number for Vassani's?" Quatre asked, producing his cell phone. 

"Do you want me to call a cab, too?" Van questioned, heaving what seemed like ten pounds of New York City Metropolitan Area phone book on the counter top. "I'd just look one up online, but our connection won't be installed until tomorrow."

"I think I've had all the cab rides I can take for one day, thanks," Vash whimpered, clasping his midsection as his face revisited its previous shade of nauseated green from this afternoon. "Can't we just hoof it?"

"It's twenty-eight degrees outside and the restaurant is in mid-town… that's about forty blocks away," Heero surmised. "Do you still want to walk?"

Vash groaned.

"I vote for the subway," Quatre chimed in, clicking off his phone. "I picked up a transit map at the airport. There's an entrance about two blocks away from here."

"Ooooh, but there are scary people on the subway. They hang out in the dark corners of the station or in the last cars just waiting for unassuming victims!"

"Vash, I'm hungry, jet-lagged and in a really bad mood," Heero hissed. "They can't be any scarier than me."

"Well, you got me there, boss."

"The reservation is for six, we'd better get moving," Quatre reminded them, picking up his coat and heading towards the door. "Guess the rest of the unpacking can wait til we get home."

"Home…" Vash trailed off, looking back at the drab, sparsely furnished apartment. It seemed even grayer as the daylight began to fade outside, darkness creeping in through the sterile Venetian blinds and hovering over eggshell walls and the dark oak hardwood floor. It seemed so cold; so vacant even though there were four of them in there. "Guess this place will take some getting used to," he mumbled to himself, trailing behind the others.

Van was already tapping his foot, impatiently glaring at the elevator doors as he jammed his finger into the already lighted down button. "What is taking this thing so long?"

"I'm not a tremendous fan of elevators, myself, they make me queasy," Vash said, glancing around and setting his eyes on the stairwell. "I think I'll just take the stairs – anybody with me?"

"Seventeen floors? No thanks," Quatre answered. "My back is still killing me from helping Van haul all his bags up here.

"Hmph."

"Okay, well see you down there!"

"Better hurry or we might leave without you." Heero called out to the closing door, listening to the echo of his friend's rapid footsteps and fading cries of:

"Oh, man… it's kinda dark in here! What the hell was that? Hey nice doggie, nice d-… You're no dog! Rat, rat – giant rat… Ahhhhhh…"

Vash burst into the lobby, the red fabric of his coat swirling up in the eruption of air sent forth by the slamming stairwell door. He leaned against the wall trying to catch his breath, beads of sweat trailing down his flushed face. A man in gray uniform stalked towards him, the click of his boots echoing on the polished tile floor.

"You okay there, buddy?" The voice sounded cheerful in its concern, and Vash looked up to meet a set of friendly cobalt eyes. 

"I'm fine," he panted, straightening his stature. "That's some impressive, er, wildlife ya got around here."

"Oh," the stranger laughed. "I see you've met General Septum."

"General Septum? Is he furry, rodent-like with beady little eyes and the size of a small canine?" Vash sucked in his cheeks and wrinkled his nose, making a series of sputtery squeaking noises.

"That would be him."

"What the hell kind of a name is that for a rat anyways? And what does he eat, little children? Geez… Aren't there ordinances in this city about keeping a creature that size indoors?"

"It's a long story," the man said with a shake of his braided chestnut hair. "A very long story… Duo Maxwell," he grinned, extending his hand.

Vash laughed and offered his own. "Vash. My three friends and I just moved in today. We're here from Seattle. Maybe you've seen them? Two grumpy-looking dark-haired types and a shy blond guy?"

"Nope. Been here for the last two hours."

"Okay then. Elevator must be really slow. So, what are you, like the night watchman?"

"I guess you could say that," Duo said, leading Vash over to his station of black and white screens, a log book and a box of donuts. "The management likes to have someone to keep an eye on things here 24-7. This shift is a good gig for me since I have school during the day."

"You go to Columbia?" Vash inquired, his fingers snaking their way towards the unassuming box of glazed.

"Only a few months away from my masters in computer science."

"Really?" Vash smiled. "Well, that's awfully interesting because my friends and I…"

"I'm sorry," Duo cut in. "You said your name was Vash, right?"

"Yeah," the answer came between bites of donut.

"Well, when my shift started, this really cute little lady with dark hair came by and asked if you were here. The updated tenant list wasn't in its folder, so I told her I didn't know. She said she'd try back later, but she left you a message."

"Huh…"

The phone rang as the guard rummaged around on his desk and produced a crisp white folded piece of hotel stationery. He moved to answer it while Vash crammed the last of the donut in his mouth and opened the note, feeling his blood pressure drop.

_Mr. Vash,_

_ As you may have noticed (since I didn't run the story in BFW), I've accepted your offer for an exclusive on the GLLC pact. I've been transferred temporarily to New York City, and I'll be holding you to your promise of weekly updates. You can reach me at the number on the top of this page, room B17._

_Sincerely,_

_Meryl Stryfe_

"I feel faint."

"I see you got my note."

"Ahhhh! Don't sneak up on a guy like that! What are you doing here!" Vash turned to find a familiar set of hazel eyes looking up at him. The petite reporter glared at him while she removed her hat and gloves. The evening chill still radiated from her rosy cheeks, and she shivered involuntarily as she met his gaze.

"I'm working."

"Oh no – off the record! I told you after the fact…"

"The main reason I'm here has nothing to do with your little pact. I'm covering some important computer industry news. I went through a lot of trouble to get this assignment, and I thought that while I was here I would keep tabs on you, too. And you do owe me."

"That's fine, but, lady, you can't be poking around here. The others would kill me! They don't know that you…"

The rest of his sentence was cut off by the sound of elevator finally arriving on the ground floor. The doors opened slowly, and Vash knew there was nowhere to run.

"Miss Meryl? What a surprise!" Quatre beamed, recognizing the reporter as he stepped off the elevator. Heero and Van exchanged quizzical glances and promptly turned their attention towards the young woman standing in the lobby. Heero's intense glare quickly shifted to Vash. The red-clad man swallowed hard, knowing full well that his friend was already suspecting that this meeting was more than a chance coincidence. He slid the note into his pocket and clasped an arm around Meryl's thin shoulders.

"Hey fellas, you'll never believe this but it seems our reporter girl here got transferred to New York for a while."

"You're right," Heero said, keeping his cold stare fixed on Vash. "I don't believe it."

Vash gulped, scratching his head as he looked nervously from side to side. "I, uh, well…."

"I'm working on a story about PCC's newest line of servers," Meryl offered, calmly taking a step in front of him. "We talked about that very subject in your interview, I believe, Mr. Yuy."

Heero, though still looking skeptical, nodded.

"It just so happens that my hotel isn't very far from here and as I was walking by, I looked in and recognized Mr. Vash – can't very easily forget some one who looks like him." Meryl plastered on her most convincing smile.

Vash's head snapped around. "Hey! I don't think that was a compliment."

"It wasn't," Meryl gritted out in mock cheerfulness through tightly clenched teeth, never moving her gaze from Heero's face. "So, gentlemen…" she asked, pulling a notebook out of her pocket, "What brings you all to New York City?"

Vash's eyes narrowed.

"Hey, Vash, are these your friends?" the guard sauntered over to the group, gratefully received by the four young men anxious for a change of subject.

"Yep. Duo Maxwell – meet Heero Yuy, Van Fanel and Quatre Winner."

Duo's eyes grew large, his jaw slackening as the names registered in his mind. "Oh my God, you're the Gundanium guys! Wow! I can't believe this! What the heck are you guys doing in New York?"

Quatre felt his shoulders slump, and he looked over to Heero, watching the muscles in his friend's jaw tighten.

"Wow, are we going to be late for dinner or what!" Van blurted out, making an exaggerated effort to search out his watch from beneath all the layers he wore. He made hastily for the door, and turned to the others, his eyes urging them to make their departure.

"Excuse us, Miss Meryl, Mr. Maxwell," Quatre said with a polite grin.

"Hey, Duo – I owe you some donuts. We'll have to hang out sometime," Vash suggested upon his retreat. "Oh, catch ya later, reporter girl!" He caught a glimpse of Meryl's sour expression as he slipped out the door.

"Wow, that was close!" Vash huffed, watching his breath crystallize in the chilly night air.

"A little too close," Van chattered, looking over at Heero.

"Vash, I still can't help but think you had something to do with this."

"Hey, boss. I, uh…"

"Keep her out of our way. We're not even one day into this and we have to keep it quiet for the next three years." Heero shoved his hands in the pockets of his long woolen trench coat, silently wondering if this had all been one big mistake.

* * * * * *

After an elevator ride that took an amazing ten minutes to make it up eighty-six floors, the four men arrived at the entrance to Vassani's fine American bistro. They were immediately greeted by a rather young looking, tuxedo-clad maitre'd.

"Ah yes, Mr. Yuy, Mister…"

"Vash, just Vash."

Forest green eyes smiled beneath a pair of small wire frames. "Mr. Vash. Excellent to make your acquaintance. And what brings you to our thriving city this evening, gentlemen?"

"Business," Heero answered, glowering at the Maitre'd.

"Oh. Yes, of course," he nodded a head of somewhat messy brown hair. "Well, my apologies for delaying you, I'm certain you're all terribly busy men. I'll be happy to show you to your table straight away."

"Thank you," Quatre said, being completely ignored as the young man grabbed a few menus and pushed right passed him.

"Right this way."

Van crossed his arms, launching a venomous glare at the maitre'd. "Hn." 

"Are we invisible?" Quatre mumbled.

Van picked up his pace and walked beside his friend, clearing his throat. "We're not on the cover of that magazine. We're just the businessmen that manage the marketing and financial aspects of the business. We aren't the geniuses that crave the spotlight or have it thrust upon them, therefore we are all but ignored by the under educated, brown nosing masses."

Van smirked at the upturned nose, corner-of-the-eye glance he received from the haughty maitre'd. Quatre nudged his friend, an embarrassed flush coloring his cheeks, but Van just shrugged it off. "I don't care if he heard. It's the truth."

Sparkling lamplight gleamed off genuine silverware, and tinkled off expensive, spun glasses, chasing away the darkness of rich mahogany and navy hues which decorated the large dining room. The restaurant was quiet, probably highly conducive to business meetings, which would make sense, considering how many businesses resided inside the over a hundred story building. It would work out for his appointment tomorrow night, Heero decided. _I'll have to remember to make the reservation before I leave tonight._

"So, what should we drink our…sparkling cider to, guys?" Quatre held up his glass, and attempted to bring the silent companions out of their individual musings. The lot of them looked too serious for their own good.

"To renewed purpose." Van held up his goblet full of the pale apple-smelling liquid.

"To new ventures." Quatre smiled, and looked over at Vash.

"To a new challenge," green eyes glowed as he raised his wineglass to the level of the others. They all turned to the last member.

"What about you, Heero?"

Heero glanced at each of his friends before extending his right arm to pick up his glass and hold it up to the others. "To becoming a better man."

"To becoming a better man," the three echoed and raised their glasses in a toast.

"Yes, the food's here!" Vash announced, rubbing his hands together while his eyes followed the plates on the tray. "Let's eat, I'm starved."

Van took a sip of his cider. "It's good to see some things will never change – Vash and his bottomless stomach."

"Hey, it's not nice to make fun of a hungry guy. I'm still a growing boy."

"Only if you're growing horizontally…." Quatre laughed.

Heero just watched his old friends banter with a slight smile. This was the right choice; this is what they needed. It had been a rough start, but after he took care of that business meeting tomorrow, he was sure they'd find the answers they were all looking for on this little 'adventure'. 

And put themselves back on track for the future they had dreamed of so long ago. 

************************************************************************

Rose's guide:

1 – GUI interface. GUI stands for Graphical User Interface. Think of the icons and schtuff on your computer screen. The picture of a file folder represents a data location on your hard drive. That is a graphical user interface that you are using in order to communicate with the hardware that is the frustrating contraption sitting on (or under) your desk called a computer. All the windows – your internet explorer window, for example – are part of a GUI. It makes a computer easier to use vs. if any of you have ever seen DOS. Black screen, you have to type in everything instead of clicking on icons to tell a computer what you want it to do.

It's not terribly important to understanding what the boys are talking about. Basic gist is – PCC has tried to find a way around buying and using Z/OS (which would be bad for GLLC's business).

2 – For those that don't know her, Iria is one of Quatre's many sisters. The typically really nice guy was displaying a bout of brotherly concern for her well-being.

3 – Andrew Talon. What on Earth can I say about him???? *lol* Mr. Talon was so very good to us to allow us to use his likeness in our fanfic. He's notoriously fond of Relena, and has written some fics sticking up for her against Relena-bashers (all in good fun, guys – we're just here to have fun) ^__^ Look for him again next chapter. ^__~

4 – Note not in the chapter itself, but, FYI – Vassani's doesn't exist. It's purely a fabrication of our imagination. Every other excessively, tour-worthy, tall building in a major metropolitan area that Stella and I are familiar with have very posh restaurants high up near or at the top. Empire State Building? Has a deli on the 86th floor. But by then, a very important piece of the fic had already been written. SO. That's why they call it fiction, I suppose. o_O

Thanks for reading, guys, and hopefully the length makes up for the little bit of a wait time, there…. Chapter 4 is undergoing revisions (needs tons of them), but while Stella's working on those, I'm going to start on chapter 5, so maybe we'll be able to keep the chapters coming fairly quickly. ^__^

The base outline predicts somewhere around 18 chapters, give or take. We'll have to see how close we come…. Just FYI.

**Preview to Chapter 4 (yes, another one. ^__^)**

"I can't believe you have a dinner date. I can't believe it, you, you, cheater!" Vash hollered from the doorway to Heero's bedroom.

The GLLC president didn't even look up. "It's not a date. It's a meeting."

The blond crossed his arms and glared at his friend. "Gender of other party that will be present at this so-called meeting?"

Heero lifted an eyebrow as a small smirk tugged at his lips. "Asexual. She's Vice President of a computer company and Milliardo's sister – technically speaking."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've seen the women that are computer literate."

Thanks for reading!!!

Love,

Rose and Stella


	5. 

Love's Labours Lost

By Stella and the Black Rose

AN: Ta-dah!  Yay, another chapter!!!  As for the other fics, we're still working on Across Enemy Lines and Missing by a Mile, and we don't cave to threatening letters, phone calls, insults or assertions that we're "late".  We appreciate very very much everyone that is still following our other fics, but right now, LLL wants to be written and the other ones are living anonymously in warmer clients sending us taunting letters and hanging out on the beach with Lady Saffir's Heero clones.  As soon as we can get another chapter written of either Enemy or Missing, we will post them without delay.  We promise that we'll finish all our fics.  Thank you ever so much for your patience – grudging and otherwise.  Love, Rose and Stella

Disclaimer: We own nothing, not even the computers we're using. :-P

Chapter 4

            The shrill scream of the phone, was it? Sliced through the peace and quiet of the condo and pleasantness of Vash's dream…  "Mmmmmmmm, Tinnnnnna."

            RRRRRRRRRRRRING!

            "Damn!" Vash grumbled as the saucy red head disappeared from his mind, and his eyes opened to take in the foreign surroundings.  "Where am I?  Oh.  Yeah.  How could I forget…"  

            RRRRRRRRRRRRING!

            "The phone?  Oh hell.  I'm coming…"  He shuffled out of bed, jolted to instant alertness as the freezing cold tile connected with the bottom of his bare feet.  "YEEEEOW!" He danced on tiptoe across the floor to the phone hanging on the opposite wall of the kitchen.  "Brr, brr, brrrrrr! AAAck!" He dove for the phone, then leapt away to stand on the tiny rug located in front of the sink.

            "Hello?" He gasped out at the unknown caller, heaving from exertion.

            A familiar voice, as cold as the tile, sounded in his ear. "Vash, what the hell?"

"And good morning to you, too, boss."  

"You're supposed to be registering for classes with the rest of us. Get your butt down here or else."

            _Uh-oh… "Why didn't you wake me up?" the blond asked, desperately searching for a heat source.  His eyes rested on the toaster and he lunged towards the counter, hitting the on button and holding his hands over the slats._

            "We tried.  Several times," Heero hissed.  "You said you'd be up in a second, and meet us at the school."

            _Ahhh__…. Warmth!  "I did?"_

            "Yes."

            The small appliance clicked off, once again baring Vash's skin to the frigid air. "Oh man...  I'm on my way.  Save me a place in line, k?"

            "Just get down here.  Now."  

            "Damn, day two of this stupid bet and it still sucks." Vash pouted, hanging up the phone and mentally preparing himself to race back across the room and down the hall to the shower.  "I wonder how long the others will make it before they fall." 

He took a deep breath and launched himself towards the bathroom.

            _The answer isn't where they're looking; I just hope they aren't too stubborn to admit it when the time comes. Who am I kidding? Van and Heero are the two most stubborn men in the world.  Please, for their own good, they need to lose this bet.  And for my sake, I hope it's soon…_

_            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *_

Still shivering, Vash grabbed his coat and headed out into the hallway.  "I'm so sure there was no hot water left – some friends I have… Oh, hello there!" He smiled, greeting a portly man in a blue uniform.  Vash moved towards the elevator, finger poised to press the down button, but his gloved hand froze in mid-air when he noticed the large sign the stranger was placing over the doors.

"Out of order?"

"'Fraid so, pal," the repairman confirmed, huffing as he kneeled by the dimmed control panel.  "I should have it fixed in about an hour."

"An hour?  I'm in a great big hurry, sir.  I can't wait that long!" Vash groaned, biting his lip and shuddering as his gaze drifted towards the stairwell.

"Ya looks like a young guy.  I'm sure ya can take the stairs."

Vash pointed to the end of the hallway, his voice taking on a higher pitch. "But mister!  Listen to me, you have nooooo idea what lives in there!  It's a giant…"

"Hey buddy, if you keep yappin' at me it's gonna take me that much longer to get this thing workin'.  Didn't you say you was in a hurry?"

"Ehhhh…"  Vash stole a quick glance at the clock in the hall.  Heero was going to kill him for sure.  There was only one thing left to do…

"Be strong.  It's only a furry little critter.  He just surprised you last time, he can't be all that big and mean." Taking a deep breath, Vash tugged on the cold metal handle, warily sticking his head into the musty and forbidding darkness of the seemingly deserted set of steps.

"Hellooo…"  He listened carefully.  No scurrying or scratching sounds – no squeaks…  "Hey, maybe he's hanging out somewhere else, or taking a nap after ingesting a small child.  I think the coast is clear," the blond grinned, stepping gingerly into the darkness.  

"Don't worry, be happy…dooooo doo doo doo da doo da doo da doo da doo, don't worry," Vash sang, listening to his voice echo as he moved through the stairwell.  He had trudged down a mere two flights when two golden sparks ignited from a remote and dismal corner, carrying with them an angry scrape of a long rodent tail being dragged over the dusty wooden blanks.

"What the-?"  Vash could hear his heart drumming hard within the confines of his chest.  A clammy coat of moisture covered his palms, and he squinted into the murky air.   

"Oh… hey there, General." He laughed, his eyes fixed on the shadowy outline of the animal.  Yes, the dang rat really was that big.  "Uhhhh…"

  The glowing embers halted, staring up at the man, as if daring him to speak.  "Hmmm - You don't like my song, is that it?  They say music soothes the savage beast, lemme think…  Oh!"

Vash cleared his throat, belting out the only rodent-related tune he could think of: "Come along and sing the song and join the jamboree.  M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E.

The creature advanced, scuttling as fast as its stubby legs would allow, corralling the tall intruder to the other side of the landing.

"Not a Disney fan, I see!  Uh… nice rat.  I come in peace!  Oh my God!   AHHHHHHHH….."

  _*                    *                      *                      *                      *                      *_

PCC Office tower, downtown NYC

            Hitomi raised her hands in a helpless gesture.  "I don't know, Rel, it just wasn't working out.  What's wrong with me that I can't stay interested in a guy for more than a week?"

            "There's nothing wrong with you, Hitomi.  It's the guys you're choosing, trust me.  Amano was nice enough, but…"

            Green eyes squinted as an impatient frown overtook Hitomi's features. "Amano and I broke up three weeks ago, Relena.  I'm talking about Peter."

            The young vice-president shook her head. "Okay I know I've been working too hard, but which one's Peter again?"

            "The stock broker."

Relena wrinkled her nose as she frowned.  "Ummmm…."

"Bow tie, suspenders, slightly graying.  Older…"

            "Oh!" Her friend grinned, finally able to put the name to a face.  "The Pencil neck?"

            Hitomi threw back her head and stared at the ceiling. "That was Dorothy's name for him, yes."

            "Geez, Hitomi, I can't believe you went out on more than one date with him.  Where do you meet these guys?"

            "I don't know…."

            The elevator door shushed open and Relena felt her stomach knot into an iron fist as their favorite, assertive corporate attorney stepped into the upward bound car.  "Dorothy," Relena greeted her friend with a half-smile.  _Time for the daily goading.___

            "So, tell me if the rumor I heard is true."  Dorothy ordered, crossing her arms and leaning against the elevator wall.  Her blue eyes glittered mischievously from beneath the pale strands of hair obscuring her face.

            "We were having a conversation." Hitomi interjected, attempting to spare Relena from what had become a morning ritual.

            "Blah blah, you broke up with pencil neck.  It's about time."

Hitomi scowled.

"I want to hear about Miss Relena's dinner date."

            "It's not a date."  Relena answered with a shrug, staring up at numbers above the door.

            "I'm so glad to hear you care that I'm depressed right now, Dorothy." Hitomi growled over her shoulder.  "The guy had his warts, but…"

            "Hitomi, the man had warts the size of elephants.  He was dull, boring, and too old to be dating a twenty-three year old, intelligent, vivacious woman who should have better prospects."  The attorney moved from her place along the wall, pacing the length of the elevator car.  "Your problem is you're too fickle.  First you're in love with this guy, then this other guy.  And to tell you the truth, I stopped having sympathy for your boyfriend problems the day you went out with Allen Schezar."

            Hitomi let out an audible gasp and Relena's head snapped around, watching as a very apparent red crept into her co-worker's cheeks. "I didn't go out with him," Hitomi stuttered.   "He kissed me one time at that stupid fund raiser thing.  And in my defense, I had had a bit too much to drink."

            "You should be glad, then, that Relena and I were sober enough to take away that key to his hotel room. What a jerk."

            "Yeah," Hitomi sighed.  "A handsome jerk."

            Relena scrunched her nose.  "He reminds me of my brother.  I just can't see him as attractive."

            "Relena, your brother is hot."

            "Hitomi, let's not have this discussion, please."

            "Okay," Dorothy smirked.  "Let's talk about your dinner date.  We should take off work now so we can pick out something totally sexy for you to wear."

            "Dorothy, it's a business meeting," Relena explained, silently willing the elevator move faster. "And I have too much work to do.  I will probably skip lunch and just go as is."

            "Relena, we're talking about Heero Yuy, eligible bachelor and very rich man."

            Relena sucked in a breath.  _Fight fire with fire_.  "But I thought he was the new love of your life." She said in a syrupy voice, her practiced tone dripping sarcasm as thick as caramel from her tongue. "I'd hate to intrude, but perhaps I can put in a good word for you over dinner." She put on her best fake grin.

            Dorothy flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Oh please, that was yesterday.  Today, I'm in love with the UPS man."

            Hitomi put her hands on her hips. "Okay, now who's fickle?"

            "The UPS man?" Relena's smile wavered.  "That's…different."

            "Ah, he's gorgeous," Dorothy beamed.  "As soon as I get back to my desk I'm going to place lots of separate orders with Amazon.com just so he can come back and deliver my package over and over again."

            "Deliver your package?" Relena raised a skeptical eyebrow as her mouth twitched up into a smirk.  "I thought that was usually referred to as delivering his package, unless there's something else about you I'd rather not know."

            The elevator door chimed open, and the blond VP moved forward to exit the car.  When she realized the other two weren't with her, she turned around to see them both staring at her with widened eyes and open mouths.  Dorothy blinked.

            "What?"

            Hitomi dissolved into giggles.  "Relena, ohmigosh! I can't believe you said that."

            Dorothy grinned and stepped into the hallway.  "My my, it's only taken six months, but I must say, you learn from the best."

            "Oh, so you've been coaching me?"

            "Of course.  If you're going to be CEO you have to be able to put these men in their place."

            Relena froze in her tracks, then turned to face her friend - all the humor had fled from her eyes.  "I never said I wanted to be CEO."

            Her friend nodded, holding her gaze. "It doesn't always matter what we want. We do what we must, do we not?"

            "Yes.  We do." Relena agreed, bowing her head and moving towards her office.  "Which is why Mr. Yuy, eligible bachelor though he may be, is a distraction I cannot afford right now."

_            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *_

Columbia University, Uptown NYC

            The gymnasium was crowded with students all awaiting their turn to register for the Spring semester's classes.  Heero stood, hands shoved deep into his pockets, quietly regarding the scene around them.   Hundreds of young men and women conversed in small clumps of friends or at the very least, sympathetic companions in frustration over long lines and unavailable classes.  Course books clutched tightly in their hands, they poured over the requirement listings and credit counts as reverently as one would a bible, praying that their chosen classes were still open, that their futures would remain in tact.   Theirs was a kind of youthful uncertainty that Heero could never recall experiencing.  His life always had direction as far back as he could remember… computers, business.  There had been no time or even the necessity for anything else…

            The annoying blip of a cell phone interrupted his musings and Heero pulled the hands-free earpiece out of his pocket, automatically shoving it into his ear a second before pressing the Talk button to accept the call. 

            "Yuy."

            "Ah, Heero, it's been a long time."

            "Zechs?"

            A short chuckle rumbled over the connection, and a smooth voice confirmed the identity of its owner.  "I haven't gone by that nickname since high school.  Call me Milliardo."

            "All right, Milliardo," Heero said, speaking the man's name with deliberate indolence.   "What do you want?"

            "As I said, it's been a long time, Yuy.  Don't you think it's about time we buried the hatchet? We are business associates; we work towards the same goal.  We should…try to get along, don't you think?  Life's too short to spend mired in the past."

            The line lurched again towards the registrar's desk, and Heero knew he didn't have much longer to finish the call.  "Agreed."

            Milliardo quietly laughed on the other end.  "Well, enough mushiness.  I called for a reason."

            "My secretary gave you the name of the restaurant and what time, what else do you…"

            Zechs cut him off.  "Yes, she called.  But unfortunately, I can't make it.  I'm still in Seattle, something came up, and I won't be able to fly in until tomorrow at the earliest."

            "I'm going to be busy…"

            "Yes, your secretary informed me your schedule was pretty tight.  Which is why…"

            Heero rolled his eyes.  "You can just fax a copy of the contract to Millie, and she'll forward it to me.  If I have questions, I'll call."

            "I'm afraid it's not that simple.  This is of the utmost importance in deciding whether or not we'll begin offering Z/OS on our newest line of servers debuting at the MO-II event next month.  Our VP of Operations is heading up the project and insists that bundling your operating system on our new systems instead of Alliance-ware is the only way to go.  However, after Weiss was able to demonstrate so many security holes…"

            "Version 7.2 fixed those errors," Heero said, his words hacking through the connection with razor-edged hostility, though his tone stayed even and subdued.          

"Yes, so your company claims." Milliardo replied.  "However, I still have some reservations, and there are a few…changes that need to be made, as well as a licensing agreement drawn up.  Since I will be unable to attend our meeting this evening, I will be sending the project manager to go over the specific clauses of our contract with you."

            "That's fine.  What's his name?"

            "Our VP of operations is my sister, Yuy."

            "Sister?"  Heero croaked, shuffling forward with rest of the line despite the icy gust of shock that threatened to freeze him where he stood.   "I didn't know you had a sister, Zechs…  Milliardo."

            "Yeah, my little sister's all grown up.  Has quite a head on her shoulders.  I expect you'll extend her every courtesy."

            "I…."

            "Good.  I've already told her she's meeting you at Vassani's at 7:30p. Oh, and Yuy.  It's good to be friends."

            "Shit."

            No sooner was the phone disconnected and the earpiece removed when he looked up to see a set sharp brown eyes glaring at him from beneath a wrinkled brow and colorless hair.  She held out a gnarled hand, impatiently tapping on the table top with the other.  "Do you have your registration paperwork filled out Mister…Mister…?"

            "Yuy.  Heero Yuy." He handed his registration leaflet over to the shrew and watched as she entered its information lethargically into her antiquated PC.  He fought the urge to just pick up the monitor and hurl it across the room as he felt all the blood drain from his face.  

He had a dinner meeting, with a woman.  This was not good.  Not good at all.  _Get it together, Yuy, just because she's female doesn't mean she'll be a distraction.  This is a business meeting, not a date._

            An unpleasant grating sensation interrupted the buzzing in his ears, and Heero promptly realized someone was talking to him.  "Check the information and make sure it's correct," the elderly woman instructed, turning the screen around while she shuffled through her papers. 

His pulse quickened and his breath caught in his throat.  All thoughts of his dinner meeting swiftly evaporated as the ghastly realization of what lie before him suddenly set in.  Heero's eyes widened and with a gasp, he stumbled back and away from the repulsive horror on the registrar's seemingly innocent, if archaic screen. 

            They were using Alliance-ware.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *          

"Well, so much for our budget," Quatre sighed, staring at the itemized tax receipt from the university.

            "Hey, we didn't blow our budget," Van assured him, glancing at the paper.   "It was a donation from G.L.L.C.  What the company does with its resources has no effect on our budget."

            "Except for the fact that they were generous enough to waive our enrollment fees…" The Financial Officer observed, still looking wide-eyed at his friend.

            "It's the least they can do," Heero offered, plucking the sheet from Quatre's hands.  "We just gave them upwards of a million dollars in equipment, not to mention the software."

            "Where's Vash?  Van asked, craning his neck in order to search for the hard-to-miss fourth member of their group.  "He better make it down here, I'm not going to wait around all day just to make sure he registered."

"He'll be here," Heero said, crossing his arms.  "If he knows what's good for him.  Make sure you at least SEE him here.  I'd better head home and get ready for that meeting."

"Lucky you.  Tell Zechs we're sorry to have missed him," Van snorted.

"There's been a slight change of plan.  Zechs won't be able to make it.  I'm meeting his sister instead."

"Sister?  He has a sister?" Van blinked.

Quatre nodded.  "Yes, she's the Vice President of Operations and also in charge of their New York office."

"Quatre, you knew this?"

"You didn't?"

Van scratched his head, narrowing his eyes at Heero. "So, you're meeting a woman for dinner?  Isn't dating a violation of our pact?"

"It's a business meeting.  It's not a date."

The marketing director raised an eyebrow.  "So, you're meeting a woman for a not-a-date?"

Heero turned, buttoning up his jacket and searching through the pockets for his gloves.  "If it helps you to think of it that way, Van, then you go right ahead.  I'll see you back at the apartment."

Van watched the other dark-haired man's retreat, sighing as he turned to let his eyes rove over the crowd remaining in the room.  "So, he gets to go out to dinner with some girl and we have to wait around here for that crazy…"

"Hey guys!  Looking cheerful as ever I see."

"Can it, Vash," Van growled, spinning around and holding up his class schedule.  "You better get in line and see what's left."

"Already done, my friend."  Vash pulled a printed sheet from one of the pockets in his voluminous red coat and dangled it in front of Van's nose.

"The Works of William Shakespeare…  The Art of Human Figure Drawing 101… Figure drawing, Vash?"

"Two words, Van: nude models."

"You're hopeless."

"What else did you decide to take?" Quatre asked, glancing down at his own schedule to compare. 

Vash smiled and handed the other blond his registration sheet.

"Popular Modern Broadcasting Trends?"

"Yeah, I get to watch tv."

"I have that one, too," Van nodded.  "It sounded kind of interesting.  What else?"

"Underwater Basket Weaving?" Quatre read aloud, turning curious eyes on the new arrival.

Vash shrugged.  "Well, what can I say? Advanced Astrophysics and Rocket Science was full up."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

  Heero trudged around his room, rifling through half unpacked bags while trying to tuck in his shirt and fasten his belt.  He glanced up from the disarray on the bed only to see Van leaning against the doorframe with Quatre right behind him.

"No Vash?"

            "No, he's still out," Van said.  "Ran into that reporter girl again or something, and he got stuck 'distracting' her while we headed home.  I think she's following us."

            "Poor Vash," Heero mused, still searching.  "She's probably grilling him."

            Quatre shook his head. "Poor Miss Stryfe.  You know what he can be like."

            "Have either of you seen my gray tie?"

            "Not lately," Van offered.  "Oh, and don't forget some cologne.  And you might want to get some hair gel."

            "She's not going to care what I smell like – we're just going over a contract," Heero seethed, giving up and dumping a suitcase's entire contents on the floor.  "And what's wrong with my hair?"

            Van shrugged. "Nothing… if you're in a wind tunnel."  Heero looked up and glowered, but said nothing.

            "I can't believe that Vash isn't back yet.  Maybe he got lost," Van said, checking his watch.

"Has he heard about…you know what?"  Heero asked, finally retrieving his tie.

            Vash chose that moment to walk in.  "Hello."  Everyone in the room froze.  "What?  What'd I do?"

            "Nothing," Heero grumbled and turned around to go back to his room and finish dressing.

            "What's wrong with him?" 

            Van smirked.  This was almost too easy.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

            "I can't believe you have a dinner date.  I can't believe it, you, you, cheater!"

"Vash, it's not a date.  It's a meeting."

The spikey-haired blond threw the GLLC president a venomous scowl. "Gender of other party that will be present at this so-called meeting?"

"Asexual," Heero commented, knotting his long sought after tie.  "She's Vice President of a computer company and Zechs's sister – technically speaking."

Vash wrinkled his nose.  "What's that supposed to mean?"

Heero glanced at his friend's reflection in the mirror. "You've seen the women that are computer literate."

"How do we know she's computer literate?" Vash paced around the room like a caged animal.   "You said yourself her brother couldn't tell a computer from a hole in the ground."

"Actually, Miss Peacecraft is not only computer literate, she's very intelligent." Quatre broke into the conversation.

"OOOh.  Which means she'll have a 'great personality'." Van rolled his eyes.

"I didn't even remember Zechs having a sister.  Is she older?" Vash looked over at Quatre.

"Younger." Heero had gathered that much from his conversation with the arrogant, older CEO that despite their earlier conversation, Heero still disliked.

"How much younger?"

"She's a year younger than we are.  We never met her because her parents sent her to the Darlian Girls' Academy starting in junior high." Quatre again ventured information they had no clue he knew.

"Girls Academy? Oh yeah.  If she's not a lesbian, she's a barking pumpkin." Van scoffed.

"Or both." Vash snorted.

"You guys are awful. I'm sure she's perfectly nice." Quatre huffed, defending the girl.  

"I heard that she's the one that stopped her brother from pursuing the Alliance-ware revamp by NIS* a while back."

"How'd you find that out?" Van asked, his usual scowl melting into a pinched brow hovering over upturned eyes at Vash's info.

"That lady reporter following us around has to be useful for something," His friend smiled.

"Ah."

"Yeah, so apparently, she's a big fan of ours, especially our OS," Vash continued.

"Who, the reporter?" 

"No, Miss Peacecraft."

"I find that hard to believe," Heero muttered.

"She was quoted in one of the few articles mentioning her name as having said, 'The Zero operating system will revolutionize the PC industry and change the face of reality as we now know it'."

"Yeah so?" Van crossed his arms, unimpressed.

"She said it four years ago, before we got our first major contract."

"Wow." Quatre's eyebrows shot up.  Heero even stopped tying his tie for a second to look over at Vash, who nodded as if to confirm the veracity of his claim.

"Well, Heero, it sounds like you'll have quite the productive evening – eating dinner with a fan.  Hope you have fun." Van slapped him on the back, still smirking at the thought of his friend eating dinner in the company of a very homely, probably comfortable-shoe-wearing female who thought he was the best thing since sliced bread.  

"This is a meeting of two corporate officials that happen to be of the opposite sex.  It's not a date.  It's not supposed to be fun."

"Right.  Methinks he doth protest too much." Vash quipped.

"Quit the Shakespearean crap.  You know I hate that."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Empire State Building, Downtown NYC

The sun melted into a painted canvas of pastel blue and vivid orange as it continued its rapid descent into the western sky.  The Empire State Building glittered in the remnants of light that skimmed across its glassy surface like stones traversing stagnant waters back in the days of Heero's childhood summers.  The thought warmed him for a moment with sunlit memories before the piercing arctic air that filled his lungs brought him back to the present.  He opened the door and entered the first floor of the proud building which stood once again as the tallest in the timeless city along the Eastern seaboard.

He stepped into the elevator and silently thanked the heavens it was empty.  After another harrowing ride in New York City traffic, he was looking forward to some peace and quiet for a moment.  It was a long way to the top, and he felt the need to collect his thoughts before….

A feminine voice floated through the leisurely closing door.  

"Wait! Please!"  

He glanced up only to meet beautiful blue eyes and long, golden hair shimmering in the setting sun still pouring in through amber-tinted glass.  She was strikingly attractive, gorgeous even - what Vash would refer to as "a real cutie"… and she would be a total distraction for the whole ten minutes it took to reach the observation deck on the 86th floor.  His hand shot over to the controls and pressed the "Close" button, sealing her outside.  

_She would have made me late, he reasoned to himself.  And it wouldn't be a very good idea to keep the sister of their largest client's CEO waiting._

"Yuy, party of two."

"Yes, of course, Mr. Yuy, we have your reservation," the young mâitre' D  smiled.  Heero recognized him from last night, but wondered at the toothy grin the strange young man turned in his direction.  "Would you prefer to wait for your party here or at the table?"

"At the table."

The mâitre' D  bowed stiffly.  "Very well, sir.  This way.  And may we say how delighted we are to see you again so soon, sir?"

"Hn. I'm waiting for a Miss Peacecraft."

Forest green eyes turned to stare at him, his face tilting to allow his glasses to slip down his nose.  Heero got the distinct impression he was being measured in some way.

"Ah, yes of course.  Very good, sir."  The young man continued forward.

Heero followed him through the soft light of the expansive dining room, stepping very deliberating through a light symphony of musical chatter and the haphazard clinking of expensive glasses and silverware.   The mâitre' D  finally paused at a secluded table, gesturing for his guest to sit and enjoy the view that only Vassani's most important customers were able to partake of. "Would you like me to bring a bottle of wine to the table? Or perhaps some champagne?"

"Wine," Heero said, a twinge of guilt nipping at his mind.  But this was business, and sharing a bottle of wine was a customary gesture of good will.  "Something fairly expensive, with a sweet flavor," he instructed.  "Women seem to like sweet wines."

"Of course, sir."

Five minutes went by.  The mâitre' D  returned with the bottle, submitting it for his approval, and poured out two glasses with a very wide smile on his face.  Heero could have sworn the light over his table dimmed to a level not conducive to reading.

"Would you care for me to light some candles, sir?  I hope you are pleased with the table."

"Candles won't be necessary," Heero said, straightening his shoulders.  "It seems darker than usual, and the temperature is cool.  Women, I think, get cold easily."

"Ah yes, of COURSE, sir."

 _ I want her to be comfortable so we can discuss the contract without any distractions, Heero thought to himself, leveling a quick glace at his watch._

Five more minutes went by, and she still hadn't arrived.  Heero noticed there was now a fire burning in the fireplace directly across from his table.  The weird mâitre' D came back and asked if he would like to order an appetizer while he waited.  

"We'll order when she gets here."

"Very good, sir. I'm sure Miss Peacecraft will be here shortly."

"Hn."

As the next five minutes dragged on, Heero began to wonder if his meeting had been canceled after all.  Perhaps this Miss Peacecraft had called Millie and left a message, but his secretary hadn't been able to get in touch with him.  He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and checked the screen.  It was on.  There was no voice mail.  He sighed and placed a quick call to Van.

"How's the date?"

"It's a meeting.  And she's not here, yet.  Has Millie called, to your knowledge, or has Vash answered the phone at all?  He likes to forget to relay messages…"

"It's been quiet.  The phone hasn't rung at all."

"So she didn't call and cancel?"

"No," Van said.  "Not a soul's called all night."

"Hn.  Then she's late."

"Or she's standing you up," his friend teased.  "Ha.  Heero's being stood up on his not-a-date."

"Funny. You know how I am about being on-time…" His eyes widened as he saw the girl from the elevator being led by the mâitre' D towards his corner of the restaurant.  

"Yeah, I know," Van continued.  "Seems she's already on bad terms with you."

"We'll see." He watched the two progress through the restaurant, navigating a similar pattern as the way in which he had come.  There were still plenty of parties she could be joining, or perhaps she was the first one to arrive and would be seated at a booth somewhere behind him.  He dismissed the building feeling of anxiety in his stomach and continued his conversation with Van. "I had to rush to make it and she's not even…." The maitre' D stopped short as she turned and spoke to the young man.  He bowed and pointed to Heero.   "Oh, fuck."  She moved quickly in his direction.

"What?  What is it?"

He clicked the "End" button on his phone, and stood up to greet her.  She was even more beautiful up close, despite the fact that her blue eyes glittered coldly in deep contrast to the warmth of the flickering firelight.  He stared, unable to decide if he should apologize first and grovel second, or just skip the formalities and ask her to marry him.  He blinked as she began to speak.  

"My apologies for being late, Mr. Yuy," she said, stiffly offering her hand.  He reached and shook it numbly as she continued.  "The elevator is insufferably slow."

"Your apology is unnecessary. Please, sit down."

"Thank you."  Her eyes darted about the room, pausing at something lying on the table in front of her. At first, Heero thought she was staring at her napkin.  "Were you planning on meeting someone else?"  She asked, arching an eyebrow as she held up the red rose.  "Or do you and my brother often dine in such cozy quarters?"

"I think it came with the wine."

"Oh.  Well, no use in wasting any more of your time than I have to, since you are, apparently, a very busy sort of man."  She produced an envelope, unceremoniously dumping it on the plate in front of him.

"Here are the proposed changes Peacecraft Computer Corp. would like to make in its licensing agreement with G.L.L.C.  If you have any questions, you can reach me at my office on the card attached to the top." She stood up from her seat.  "Good evening."

Heero jumped to his feet as she began to depart.  "You came all the way here to drop this off and leave?"

"It is apparent my presence is not welcome."

"I didn't mean to give that impression." Heero argued, feeling as if he were standing on a quickly sinking ship.

"It is more than an impression, and I certainly do not intend to stay and intrude further into your schedule.  Good evening."

He watched her spin on her heel and stride back towards the front of the restaurant.  It would be bad for business to let her leave thinking he didn't want to meet with her.  Zechs would certainly call him as soon as he heard the details of their meeting – an eventuality he wanted to avoid at all costs.  _Oh hell.  The thought served as a mental S.O.S., giving him the nudge he needed, and Heero surged away from the table in order to go after her._

He caught his fleeing dinner companion waiting for the elevator, her arms wrapped tight around a slim, tailored suit-clad body, and inwardly cringed at the hostile expression on her face. He would have to beg.  _Suck it up, Yuy, this is for the company after all. _

"Miss Peacecraft.  It isn't easy to get reservations at this restaurant and I hate eating in public places alone." He tried to maneuver into her line of vision, but she turned away.

"If that is the case, then I'm sure you can find someone milling about on the observation deck to share your precious reservation." 

"Miss Peacecraft…." He started again, but the loud ding of the elevator interrupted his sentence.  He moved around her left side, between her and the awaiting car.  She spun on her heel in the opposite direction, as if the prima donna in a fluid ballet, gliding smoothly into the elevator and leaving him behind.  

Heero blinked; he was staring at the restaurant, his back to the elevator and she was nowhere to be seen.  He whirled around just in time to stop the doors from closing and leapt inside.

"So you'll share an elevator with me, now?"  Her tone was like acid and stung like a slap to the face.  She moved to the opposite side of the car, turning her back on him.

"I apologize for my earlier behavior.  I didn't know who you were, and I was in a hurry for our meeting." He took a step forward, trying to manipulate his position to where she would have to look at him.  She spun away again, facing the rear of elevator.  He would have laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation if it hadn't been so serious as well.  "I didn't want to be late."

"A whole minute late?" She mocked, shifting from one toe to the other. He couldn't help but notice the graceful curve of her neck or the way a few stray strands curled invitingly at its nape.  "That would indeed have been intolerable." She continued lecturing the back wall of the car.  "You have very bad manners, Mr. Yuy.  I would rather think you'd hold an elevator for a woman and be ten minutes late than be selfish and on time."

He leaned forward over her shoulder, and breathed in her ear. "Heero."

"What?" She jumped and reeled around to face him. 

_Finally, he thought, then realized that her move had put them in very close quarters with one another._

"Call me Heero." He fought to control his voice as he felt his heartbeat quicken slightly in his chest.  He took a step back.

She simply stared at him, her eyes growing wide and then shrinking to a scowl as her brow furrowed. "Mr. Yuy, considering…."

A smirk tugged at his lips as he noticed the trace of pink creeping into her complexion.  "I can prevent you from getting off this elevator, if I have to.  We're having dinner tonight as planned."

"I believe that would be called kidnapping, Mr. Yuy." Her eyes darted away again.

"Heero. " He planted his left arm on the metallic wall behind her head and leaned forward. "And you can call it whatever you want, after dinner." He shifted back to his heels.  "Will you be returning to the restaurant quietly?  Or do I have to threaten to veto the contract completely unless you eat dinner with me?"

"You wouldn't dare." She tried to step around him, but there wasn't enough room between him and the side wall of the elevator.  She then tried ducking under his arm, but he just slid in front of her again as she turned around - successfully barring her charge towards the doors. 

"Bet me."

Heero watched her take a deep breath, focusing on the perfect shape of her lips as she slowly exhaled.  She closed her eyes, long lashes grazing the previously anger-flushed cheeks.  Her voice was calm when she spoke, though waves of irritation still peaked within its serenity.

"I don't really see the point of this, Mr. Yuy.  I've given you the documents; I have nothing to add, unless you have questions about something.  It's all pretty straightforward, and…."

"Good," he said, his face set in a blank expression.  She still wasn't calling him by his first name, but at least she had stopped avoiding him altogether.  He told himself again that what he was about to do had no bearing on his personal life - it was not about the fact that she was strikingly beautiful and also smart enough to hold her own in a battle of wits with him.  Not at all.  This was simply the best thing he could do for G.L.L.C.'s relationship with their client. 

He resumed his position with his left arm resting on the wall over her shoulder, using his physical presence to pin her into a proverbial corner. "Then we can discuss other matters." He ducked his head to meet her gaze.

Miss Peacecraft blinked and stared at him a moment. She had the most expressive eyes he had ever seen.  Heero was used to dealing with people that knew better than to reveal all that they were thinking at any given point in time, but she was different.  Everything she was feeling was right there.  And it was enough to draw him in and make him want to…  She glanced away.  

"What other matters? Is there something that your company…."

"Non business related matters." __

Her gaze seemed to be firmly fixed on the panel of numbers just beyond him.  "Mr. Yuy, Heero, that sounds suspiciously like you're asking me on a date."

He leaned in for the kill, catching the faintest flavor of jasmine from her skin.  "I can't ask you on a date if I don't know your first name, Miss Peacecraft." He whispered close to her ear.

She hesitated, but he saw her peek up at him out of the corner of one eye.  "Relena."

Heero smirked and stood up from the wall.  He turned around to face the front of the elevator again.  "Relena, will you join me for dinner this evening quietly, or do I have to kidnap you?"  He asked, casting a sidelong glance at the very attractive young woman beside him; his finger hovered over the button that would take them back up to the 86th floor. __

"That's not much of a choice," Relena commented.

"Never said it was." 

"Good." She turned to face him, fighting to keep the amusement from leaking into her expression.  "Then I don't have to add 'liar' to your list of faults."

He arched an eyebrow as he pushed the button.  They continued downward for a pace, but then the gears noisily clicked in and reversed their direction.  "Hn.  Well, when you finish typing up that list, please send me a copy.  It may come in handy." He watched a small smile form on her lips at his reply and could barely contain one himself.  She met his gaze head on, her light blue eyes unwavering in the face of his steely glare.

"I will."

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Lion's Gate Apartments, Uptown NYC

Van greeted Heero at the door of the apartment, eager for any reason to escape Vash's enthusiastic "research" for their new class.  His lanky friend was reclined on the sofa fully engrossed in the seventh episode of "The Dukes of Hazard." And Van had been subjected to it all night.

"So, how did your not-a-date go?"

"Hn."

"That good, huh?  Why did you hang up?"

"Sorry."

Van shook his head. "What?"

"Hm?"

"Is something wrong, Heero?  You seem distracted.  And you just apologized…"

"No, uh, just this contract from Peacecraft Corp.  It's, it needs some going over, I think.  I'm supposed to call if I have questions."  Heero handed the packet of papers to Van.

"We should have legal take a look."

Heero took off his jacket, searching the crowded coat rack for a free hook.  "No, I'll have Quatre do it."

"So, what was she like?" Van asked.  "Homely, like you thought?"

"Not really.  Difficult.  Has a temper like her brother's."

"Really?  What else does she have in common with her brother?  Pale skin, long blond hair, perhaps?  Blue eyes?"  Van questioned, following Heero into the kitchen, grabbing a carton of orange juice from the fridge.

"Actually, yes."

"So, she's gorgeous, isn't she?" He grabbed one of Vash's "programmer-ware" glasses out of the cupboard and started pouring, apparently unmindful of the marking '#includebeer.h'.

"She's the Vice President of one of our largest clients.  I really didn't notice."

"Didn't notice my foot!" His friend seethed, sloshing the sticky liquid all over the countertop.  "We made a pact!"

"And I have every intention of honoring it" Heero insisted.  "If you doubt me, I suggest you come to the next meeting. I could use your input on the cost analysis of their proposed changes, and Quatre's on the legal details.  In turn, we're supposed to meet with Relena, their marketing rep, and their chief legal advisor."

"Ha, so it's Relena, is it?" Van smirked.

"Less formality is better for negotiations like these.  Ask Vash about that some time."

"Humph.  He'd think you were cheating, too."

"Here's your copy of the contract.  Meeting's Friday."  Heero called out, heading to his room.

"OOOh, perfect night for another non-a-date.  Friday night." Van called out after his friend as he disappeared down the hallway.

The software exec peeked his head back into the room. "It's Friday afternoon.  Three o'clock. I need your report by then."  He closed the door without a backwards glance.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

PCC Tower

Relena tightly clutched her cup of hot coffee, tiptoeing as soundlessly as possible through the nearly deserted early morning corridors of the PCC building.  Her tired eyes surveyed a dimly lit stretch of hallway just beyond the two main elevators, and she nearly broke into a run, dashing the final distance to the safety of her Hitomi-and-Dorothy-free corner office.  She loved her friends, but at the moment, had no desire to be forced to offer up the details of her meeting with GLLC's President for a certain blond attorney's analysis… and as eventual consumption as fuel for "the daily goading." 

She slipped between the tall paneled doors, heading mechanically through the darkened space in order to deposit an armful of paperwork onto her desk.  Suddenly, a sharp click resonated through the room, casting a wave of blinding illumination over the woman at its center.  The stack of files flew from her grasp, the folders hitting the floor and spewing their contents around her feet like an erupting volcano.  Her pulse raced as a shrill cry escaped her lips, and she whirled around to face the intruder only to find Hitomi's familiar face greeting her with a look of equal surprise.

"Oh my goodness, Relena, I'm so sorry!  I didn't mean to scare you!"

"Hitomi?"  Relena gasped, her gaze turning from the person at the light switch and fixing helplessly on the chaos at her feet.  "What on earth were you doing in here – and this early in the morning?"

Her friend started across the room, kneeling down to help her collect the unruly remains of a once well-organized status report.

"Getting my product analysis ready to fax over to Weiss.  Yohji Kaduo asked to have it before nine o'clock and I needed one of your files…  And I know you're here trying to avoid our little morning chat!  Not to mention that you didn't call me back last night.  So, how was it?" The marketing rep asked, heaving a clump of papers onto the desk's polished surface.  "Did you have a nice dinner with Heero Yuy?"  

 "It was fine…" Relena replied, absently grinning before returning to the task at hand.  "He's having his officers look over…"

"The terms of the contract, yes, we know," Hitomi huffed, bending over to pick up more of the scattered folios.  "You already told us that AND about the meeting on Friday, Relena in the email you sent late last night. Did you forget already or has he managed to distract you that much?"

"What do you mean?" The VP asked, gathering the mess of typed pages that she'd been able to retrieve and sitting down to start re-organizing them.

"It's just that you seem…rather happier today than yesterday," her friend observed, rising once again to her feet.  "Did something happen between you two?"

"It was a meeting between two colleagues.  Nothing more."

"Uh-huh."  The marketing rep all but laughed out, collapsing in a nearby chair and resting an elbow on the edge of her boss's desk.  "So, is he as handsome as they say?"

"Hmmm?" The VP peeked up from the documents in front of her.  She hadn't really been reading them anyway.  "Uh, I didn't even notice.  I was busy…working."

Hitomi shot her friend a skeptical glance.  

"Ok.  Fine," Relena muttered, going back to her paperwork.  "He's not bad looking."

Hitomi put a hand on her hip and tucked her mouth into an "out with it, now, Relena" type smirk.

The VP looked up.  "What do you want, Hitomi?  I said he was attractive."

"Well, that's a step up from the previous 'not bad.'  So, that's it?  Just attractive?"

"What am I supposed to say?" Relena huffed, throwing her hands up in defeat.  "That he's the smartest, most gorgeous, and sexiest man I've ever met and I want to have his children?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that and come in again," A deep voice called out, followed by a familiar face peering around her open office door.  Relena blushed a violent red, and shot up from her chair.

"Milliardo!  I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow!  And… I…I wasn't saying that.  I was being sarcastic."

"So, Heero Yuy ISN'T the sexiest, most gorgeous man you've ever met?" Dorothy chimed in, entering the room behind the CEO.

"Yuy?" Milliardo mumbled, making his way slowly towards his sister's desk and easing himself into the chair previously occupied by Hitomi.  "I was just coming in here to see how your meeting went last night.  I'm afraid to ask, now."

"I…The meeting went fine.  We have another one scheduled with some of his corporate officers this Friday, and I've asked Hitomi and Dorothy to accompany me and give presentations.  There is nothing else going on between Heero and myself."

"Oooh, well, she's calling him Heero today, yesterday it was Mr. Yuy," Dorothy observed.

Milliardo rose shakily to his feet, turning back to the doorway.  "I think I'm going to come back later, Relena, when you girls are done gossiping."  He gave his sister a quick peck on the cheek, then began his retreat.  "And there's no way that Yuy could possibly be smarter than ME!"

"There's nothing to gossip about," Relena protested, taking his arm.  "I gave him the contract and we had a pleasant dinner that was all."

"What did he say about it?"

"About what, brother?"

"The contract," Milliardo continued, his blue eyes now lusterless and set against pallid skin.  "Did he read over it?"

"Well, not exactly.  He said he was going to go over it this week."

"So what did you talk about if not the contract, Relena?" Dorothy smirked at her friend. 

"Just stuff."

"Business stuff or personal stuff?" Hitomi inquired.

"I'm leaving," Milliardo announced, seeming to have gained a burst of energy as he made for the exit.  "I'm trusting you to handle this, Relena."

"I'll handle it, brother."

"And don't get involved with Yuy.  It's bad for business."

Relena's hands fisted at her sides, and for a moment, the picture reminded him of how she looked at three years old before she launched into a temper tantrum. "Brother!  What I do on my own time…."

"Huh.  And here I thought that Relena sleeping with the President of G.L.L.C. would help our business."

Relena spun around. "DOROTHY!" 

"Hey, the guy's a software mogul," the blond shrugged.  "Read COMPUTER GEEK.  He's gotta be hard up."

"Well, it's true he's never dated much," Milliardo admitted.  "But I'm the head of a computer company…."

"Different," Dorothy asserted.  "You were a businessman who created an enterprise.  He's a programmer with a product that put him into business.  A wunderkind, a prodigy – a billionaire at twenty, a multi-billionaire at twenty-four."

"Fine, whatever.  I'm leaving," Milliardo announced with a final wave of his hand.  "Relena, send me an email..or better yet, I'll send Yuy an email and ask for the details.  He'll be more to the point."

"Great.  Now everyone get out of my office.  I need to get some work done."

"Yes ma'am," Her brother teased.

When Hitomi and Dorothy had left, Relena locked the door and went back to her desk. She clicked on her mail program and brought up Heero's email, a small smile playing on her lips as she read over it again.

Relena,

I begin to wonder about your company's reliability since I haven't received your promised report yet this morning.  I suggest you send it ASAP, unless you have changed your opinion of me.

Heero  
  


PS- Café Cipriani has great Italian food, reservations for two at 7:30p, and no elevator.

She folded her arms over her chest and thought back to their date the night before.

_"So, why the table near the fireplace and the wine?"_

_He reached for his glass, swirling the dark red liquid but never bringing it to his lips. "I think the mâitre' D is trying to set us up."_

_"Ahhhh.__  But you're not protesting."_

_"Should I?"_

_"Why shouldn't you?"_

_"Protest?" he asked, glancing upwards and holding her gaze.  _

_"Yes," She had replied, once again studying the same blue eyes that had stared up at her from a magazine cover just a few days ago.  She couldn't help but think that at this moment, they seemed different somehow._

_He cleared his throat, causing their conversation to pause, and then raised a hand to push the hair away from his face. "I'll send you my list after you send me yours."_

_"Hmmm..Sounds fair."_

_"So, unjust shouldn't be on my list of faults, then?"_

_"Doubtful. My brother always said you were a fair man."_

_"Hn."___

_"You've been friends for awhile – since high school?"_

_"Yes," Heero answered, reaching for his napkin which he unfolded and placed in his lap. "We've known each other.  I wouldn't necessarily call us friends.  We're not enemies, and we do business together.  That's the extent of it."_

_"I see.  That explains why he never invited you over for dinner."_

_"Pretty much, I guess," he answered.  "How long have you been Vice President of Operations?"_

_"Only about six months, now.__  Brother made me work my way up, of course. But I wouldn't have it any other way."_

_"That doesn't surprise me."_

_"What does surprise you, Mr. Yuy, I mean, Heero?"_

_"Nothing," he smirked with a slight shake of his head.  "Nothing at all…"_

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

_Heero,_

_I apologize for the tardiness of my report, but the length of the list grew exponentially while at dinner last night, so it's taken me longer to type up than expected.  If I can finish it in time, I'll bring it to the restaurant by 7:30p.  If you'd like, I can stay and answer any questions you might have._

_Relena_

_PS – Remind me to add mediocre correspondent to the list, if I forget._

He couldn't help but grin at her reply.  It was funny how well they had gotten along after such a rocky start.  She was challenging and open; she wasn't afraid of him, like so many others, not intimidated by his intelligence…and so beautiful. _The only thing wrong with her is her timing. He thought, his expression and heart sobering with the memory of the pact he had made with his friends.  They had vowed not to date any women for three years, and he hadn't made it even three days.  __And this is exactly why we swore not to date, because women are a distraction! He chided himself.  Yet, somehow, he couldn't make his heart regret its interest._

            _"What does surprise you, Mr. Yuy, I mean Heero?" The gentle yellow light from the fixture above the table threaded through her hair, causing the golden strands to glow as they framed her face.  He realized that he'd been staring at her, and willed himself to look away, but only succeeded for a brief moment._

_            "Nothing. Nothing at all."_

_            "Ah, I forgot, the genius knows everything. Remind me to add arrogance to your list, too." She smiled, just a small smile – pulling lightly at the corners of her mouth.  Could it have been meant for him?_

_            "Hmph.  I'm hardly a genius."_

_            He could tell she was doing her best to look stern.  "'Tis too late for false modesty, now."_

_            "You're a hard woman."_

_            "You're the one who insisted I stay for dinner," she reminded him._

_            She had a response for EVERYTHING. "You can leave any time."_

_            "You'd like that, wouldn't you?  Then you could call me cruel."_

_            Heero was unable to stop the words before they escaped, listening to his voice make a reply without the consent of his brain. "No. I wouldn't like it.  And I think you're anything but cruel. You've given me more chances than I deserve."_

_            She leaned back in her seat fixing her clear blue eyes on his face. "Who said I was giving you a chance at all?" _

_            "A man can hope." My God I sound like Vash._

_She smiled again. "I'll have to add delusional to that report."_

            "So, breaking the pact already?"  Vash buzzed around Heero's desk, munching on his seemingly endless supply of salmon sandwiches and reading the e-mail messages over his shoulder.  "Hmmm, I guess I'll have to take over the president position, since you'll soon be forfeiting your share of the company.  Should I have the papers drawn up now, or wait until after your date?"

            "What – did you get up early just to bother me?  And it's not a date."

            "Café Cipriani has great Italian food, reservations for two, and no elevator.  Sounds suspiciously like a date to me," Vash surmised, downing the last of his snack. "Although elevators can be quite cozy after dinner on the way home…"

            "She's bringing me a report I asked for.  Nothing more."

            "Great.  Then I'm sure you won't mind changing the reservation to accommodate the rest of us.  I'm starved and have been dying for some good Italian food."

            "You're not invited," Heero barked.

            "Why not?" Vash pouted.  "So you can be alone with Miss Peacecraft and her 'report'?"

"No," he answered, ignoring his friend and turning his attention to the keyboard.  "It's because this doesn't require your presence and it's too much of a chore to take you out in public."

Vash was unfazed.  "I don't suppose her 'report' has anything to do with what she wears under her business suits, does it?"

            "It's a report as in papers with writing on them that have to do with business…things."

            "Business things, huh?"  Vash plopped himself on Heero's desk, noting with renewed interest what appeared on the screen of his friend's small computer.  "So what exactly is this report supposed to contain besides business things?  Sounds like an awfully vague report to me."

            "Some further clarification on some specific items in the proposed contract.  Have you read over it yet?"  Heero asked, giving up and rising to his feet.

            Vash shook his head. "Nope.  Didn't get the chance.  I've been busy beating ghoulies in Silent Hill."

            "You weren't supposed to bring the Playstation."

            "Oh well, you aren't supposed to be eating dinner with beautiful women, either."

            "It's a business meeting, for the ten-millionth time."

            "Then I say we all go.  We can each of us ask our own questions of Miss Peacecraft, I mean, Relena. About the contract, of course."

            "Fine."  Heero stood up and stalked out of the room.

            Vash grinned as Heero left and then sat down in front of his friend's computer, his long fingers coming to rest on the just the right keys.  _"Dear Relena…."_

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Relena grabbed the latest letter off the printer and read over it again with a shy smile tugging on her lips.  She wasn't sure, but figured she was probably blushing at its contents, as she had done with the many others she'd received throughout the day.  A short knock sounded at her door an instant before it swung open and revealed her two friends waiting patiently outside.

            "Relena, come on.  Let's go eat," Hitomi suggested, shrugging into her heavy coat.

            "Oh, I'm sorry, I can't.  I'm…I have another business meeting."

            "OOOh.  With Heero?" Hitomi grinned.

            "Yes," Relena admitted, stashing the most recent printout under a stack of papers.  "He's asking for a report…"

            "Oh well, sounds like you'll need our help then," Dorothy said.  "We should go along."

            "What?" Relena blinked.  "I mean, no, I'm sure…you two don't have to do that.  I can handle it.  You guys take the night off.  You've been working way too hard as it is."

            "Uh-huh.  Oh, please, Relena.  Who do you think you're fooling?  You're falling for this guy, and we're not sure we approve.  We're going with you tonight and that's final," Hitomi said with a nod.

            "But…."

            "No buts, Relena, it's for your own good and the good of the company," the attorney stated, fetching her friend's coat from the opposite side of the office.

            "I don't need you to tell me what to do, Dorothy.  I'm perfectly capable of handling…."

            "Miss Relena.  You know that Hitomi and I hold you in the highest respect.  You're more than capable of bringing the lot of those men crumbling to their knees.  But considering the importance of these negotiations for the future of our company, it can't hurt to have reinforcements there to answer any and all questions Mr. Yuy may have."

            "He's ruthless, Relena," Hitomi chimed in, wagging a finger in the VP's direction.  "You know the stories.  He may be trying to toy with your emotions in the hopes of distracting you.  We'll be able to serve the dual purpose of business allies and neutral observers."

            "I highly doubt it."

"Hey, you never know!" the marketing rep announced.

"You won't give up will you?"

            Hitomi shook her head. "Nope. If you try to ditch us, we'll just follow you to the restaurant and make a further nuisance of ourselves."

            "Fine, you can come."

            Dorothy beamed.

            "I wonder if the other partners are as good looking as Heero Yuy…" Hitomi wondered aloud.

            Dorothy made a face.  "Ugh, did you see the freak that he was pictured with on the cover of Bernadelli Weekly?"

            "He wasn't that bad, Dorothy," Hitomi said.      "Just…freakish….What a contrast."

            "I think that was the point of the cover," Relena offered.  "There are two other partners that are probably perfectly normal.  They just picked the two extremes."

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            "Vash, I swear, I'm going to kill you."

            "What'd I do, now?"

            "You used all my hair gel!" Van yelled, fighting for control over his disobedient mane in front of the bathroom mirror while lecturing Vash at the top of his lungs.  "When you run out, you go to the store and buy some more, you don't use up all of mine so that I have to run around with a tangled mop like Heero does."

            "I comb my hair," Heero interjected, pushing passed Vash and Van in order to grab his bottle of aftershave. 

            "With what," Fanel groused, "an egg beater?"

            "Wow, someone's in a mood.  Heero, you didn't tell us part of the pact was surviving Van's PMS," Vash complained.

            "Oh, you haven't seen PMS until you've lived with all my sisters," Quatre said, looking stricken at the mere memory. "Did you know that when several women live in the same house, their cycles all sync together?"

            The three other men just gaped at their CFO.  "What?"

            "All of those women, including my mother, PMS-ing at the same time.  My dad and I would go on camping trips and stuff the weekend they would start."

            Vash swallowed hard.  "Okay, first of all, that is way more than I ever wanted to know.  Second of all, you're right, Quatre, I think that would actually qualify as being worse than Van's PMS, seeing as how his is just a nasty case of 'Post-pact Malice and general Surliness'.  But not by much."

            "Fuck you, Vash.  And what the hell kind of acronym is that?  It should be PMGS."

            "Well, this sounds like it's going to be a pleasant evening," Heero commented from the hallway.  "We'd better get moving."

            Vash ran to Heero's side, straightening his posture and flipping up his hand in a mock salute.  "Boss, I request that we hire a prostitute to cure Van of his dysfunction and waive the proviso in the pact…"

            "Denied."

            "Ugh! Damn.  What about a porno mag?"

            Heero's hand found its way to his temple, tugging at the skin around his eyes. "Vash, you're giving me a headache.  Go stand outside until we're ready to go."

            "But it's cold!"  His friend's blue eyes repeated the request.  "Yikes.  Scar-ey.  I'm going, I'm going…."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

            "Well, look who's here.  Surprise, surprise.  Ya know, if I followed you around like this, Miss Reporter, you'd have me arrested for stalking."

Meryl Stryfe adjusted her scarf, catching Vash watching her absent-minded movements. "Hey, what are doing?"  

"Huh?"

"I see the rat didn't get you this time, eh?"

"Nah, Took the elevator."  _Wow, she's got pretty eyes…_

"And you know, you have yet to fill me in as promised, and I'm not letting you off the hook.  So, the least you can do is tell me where you're all headed this evening?"

            "Dinner..." Vash managed to answer, snapping out of his trance.

            "I think there's more to the story than that."

            "Ummmmmmm….No.  Cool it, reporter girl.  We're just going to dinner.  The four of us.  People need to eat, you know."

            Familiar voices drifted out into the chilly night air.  "We're going to be late."

            "Don't want to keep the girlfriend waiting, eh, Heero?"

            "Van, it is a business meeting.  Where the hell did Vash get to?"

            Meryl pursed her lips and shot her tall companion a contemptuous stare.  "Just the four of you, huh?"

            "Eh heh heh heh.  And a business associate," Vash added, sheepishly inching around the corner of the building in order to join his friends. "Awwww, no, Miss Meryl, you can't follow us.  The guys are already suspicious.  If I tell you who it is, will you leave us alone, just this one time?"

            "Maybe," the reporter leered at the software tester.  "If you tell me who she is."

            "Miss Relena Peacecraft."

            "What?"

            "Oh man, keep your voice down, ok.  Listen, I have to get go-"

            "So, is there any truth to the rumor that Mr. Yuy and Miss Peacecraft are an item?"

            Vash came to a screeching halt.  "What rumor?"

            "The one I just made up."

            "No" he seethed, rising to his full height and glowering at Meryl.  "There's no truth to it at all."  Vash couldn't help but feel like he was lying.  "We're meeting for dinner to go over some licensing contract changes and that's all."

            "Uh-huh," Meryl nodded.  "Then why not meet with MISTER Peacecraft?"

            "Uhhhhh, because he's still in Seattle?"

            "No way, Mr. Vash.  He arrived in New York City this morning first thing.  And by the way, you're a terrible liar."

            Vash slouched.  He should have known better. "Okay, off the record?"

            "Off the record," Meryl promised.

            "You want a story, right?"

            "And you want out of this pact."

            "And my friends to be happy," he added.

            "Uh-huh."

            "And I want out of this pact."

            Meryl rolled her eyes.  "We've established that, yes."

            "So," Vash confessed, casting his long shadow over Meryl's in the gloom of the alley, "he had dinner with her the other night, and came back all kind of…strange…."

            "Strange like how?" she asked.

            "I don't know, just absent minded, kind of dazed…not focused.  Which is highly unusual for Heero. Not like him at all, in fact."

            "Okay."

            "And this morning, I caught them exchanging emails.  Nothing telling, just sort of friendly, but not too friendly."

            "Not too friendly," Meryl repeated, fighting the urge to reach for her notebook.  "Okay."

            "So I thought I'd see just exactly how friendly she thought they were."

            "Vash, tell me you didn't."

            "Uh-huh.  And I sorta sent her a couple of emails using his account, hinting at a bit more of a romantic interest and she took the bait.  But then I kinda goofed…"

            The reported tilted her head, as if still attempting to figure him out. "Goofed?"

            "I wrote her back, and was trying to back track a little, only I think I made it worse."

            Vash flattened himself against the frosty brick wall, watching helplessly as Meryl advanced. "How could you make it worse?"

            "Well…you see… my typing's never been the best…." He chuckled, plastering an impish grin across his face.  He could tell Meryl wasn't buying it.

            "What did you do?"

            "Well…I meant to say 'I'd love to meet you there, but I have other plans'."

            "All right," The woman agreed.  "That sounds pretty harmless."

            Vash balked.  "Only when I read the quoted reply, apparently I sent 'I love you and I can't wait to tell you in person'."

            "You did what?!"

"Shhhhhhh!"

"How is that a typo?" She demanded in a loud whisper.

            "Really, really bad typing?" Vash whimpered.

            Meryl shook her head. "You're dead.  You realize that, don't you?"

            "I know," Vash admitted.  "How's your cooking?  Can I come live with you?"

            "No."

            "In my defense, reporter girl, I think he truly is in love with her."

            "After one little dinner date?" Meryl shook her head.

            "It was a dinner not-a-date," Vash corrected.  "But yeah.  To be honest I've never seen him like this.  That's also one of the reasons I wanted to go with him tonight – to observe them together.  I'm pretty sure I'm right, though.  As long as she's genuine in her affection for him as well, I wish them joy – and hopefully soon.  If he's in love, he can call off this stupid pact before the weekend and I'll be cruising home in style on the company jet."

            "You think he'll be that easily swayed?"

            "I'm hoping."

            Meryl gave him a doubtful look.

            "All right," Vash sighed, slinking along the wall and heading towards the front of the building.  "No, he probably won't be. But that's where my efforts will come in handy.  Some flowers, a few more love notes…if I can get Van and Quatre to help me, we'll have them eloping to Vegas by next weekend."

            "Really?" Meryl questioned.

            Vash's lip quivered. "Oh God, I hope so.  If not, I don't know what I'm going to do!"

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Regular Notes:

* NIS – Noventa Info-Systems.  It is, for our purposes, a software company that wrote a graphical user interface (Windows-like icon oriented software commands) for Alliance-ware's server software.  The reference in this chapter is to the idea that PCC wanted that company to write a similar thing for the home-based OS (think Linux for home-based OS and true Unix for servers) and therefore circumvent their need to offer Z/OS at all.

Without the software mumbo-jumbo, just know that the idea was that PCC was trying to find a way around having to sell Z/OS with their computers, which would have been bad for GLLC.

And here's a preview to Chapter 5:

            "You are the rudest man I've ever met." Hitomi's voice shattered the quiet atmosphere of the restaurant, gusting in on chilly breaths of unwelcome winter air.  "It's one thing that you aren't gentlemanly enough to hold the door for a lady, but it's quite another to run me over and not even apologize." She glared up at the dark-haired man that had come in ahead of her.

            Van scowled back.  "I didn't see you.  It's freezing out there and I was in a hurry."

            "That's still not an apology."

            Dorothy pulled her fur hat from her head shaking off a bit of frost.  "My mother used to say that chivalry was dead," she said in an icy tone.  "I never knew how right she was."

            Quatre brought up the rear of the small party. He raised his hands trying to calm the many combatants.  "Ladies, you have every right to be upset.  My friend indeed owes you an apology." He cast a stern glance in Van's direction.  "But just because he didn't think before he acted in this case doesn't mean that all men…"

            "I don't owe her an apology," Van cut in.  "It was an accident, not something I did intentionally."

            Dorothy put both hands on her hips.  "That's all the more reason why you should apologize."

            "Van…"

            "She's insulting.  I didn't do…"

            Hitomi took a step closer, pointing a finger into his chest.  "You ran into me, stepped all over my foot with your monstrous…hooves, and almost sent me sprawling to the ground. That's hardly nothing in my estimation."

            The object of her ire's eyebrows shot up, his jaw dropping at her tirade.  "Hooves?"

            "Van, just apologize," Quatre whispered loudly to his friend.

And thus, World War III begins….


	6. “I told you, Vash I am not laying a han...

Love's Labours Lost

By Stella and the Black Rose

AN: Ta-dah! Yay, another long…long…chapter! 

Stella: Why is that a reason for celebrating, again?

Rose: Errrr…sense of accomplishment?

Stella: I'd rather complete lots of little chapters, and have that sense of accomplishment more often, than suffering through these 12,000 word monsters. Like this: The four men stepped off the subway and trudged their way up icy steps to the frostbitten streets. End chapter 5. Next chapter.

Rose: -__-;; Uh-HUH. **mockingly** Love's Labours Lost, the 500 million chapter long fanfic. Great idea – NOT.

Stella: **sighs** You just don't appreciate my brilliance.

Rose: When you have it, I'll try to appreciate it. :P

Stella: Hmph. See if I fill in around YOUR dialogue anymore. 

Rose: -__-;;;

We get along…really, I swear. ^__~

Love,

Rose

And a special thanks to the Trigun fans for giving this a chance ^_^  (And don't pay any attention to Rose :P)

Love,

Stella

************************************************************************************

Disclaimer: We own nothing, not even the computers we're using. :-P

Chapter 5

The four men stepped off the subway and trudged their way up icy steps to the frostbitten city streets. Heero's jacket was still insufficient for the New York winter, but in his estimation, the frigid air grew exponentially worse at night until he was sure the blood was going to freeze in his veins. Apparently he wasn't the only one; he noticed his friends' pace quicken to practically a run as they emerged from the stillness of the tunnels into the darkened, brackish haze of a winter evening. Heero blinked against a mind-numbing gust, watching his breath mist when he gasped out directions to his business partners, who huddled in a tight formation as they moved along behind him. It was only a few blocks to the restaurant, but the bitter wind swirled around him, robbing his unconditioned body of precious warmth. He finally broke into a jog. 

It should be against the law to be this cold. Heero swore as he trotted passed the entrance to a dark alleyway, his eyes fixed on the inviting, warm colors of the neon sign perched over Cipriani's Restaurant. He nearly stumbled when he noticed something sitting near a vent on the sidewalk. It darted out before him, attempting to intertwine itself around his feet. 

"Meow." 

Heero kept his gaze trained on their destination, the promise of the restaurant's fireplace drawing him closer. Dumb cat. Go inside where it's warm. The software exec leapt over the small black lump of fur in his path. He rounded the corner and would have smiled at the sight of the polished glass doors to the small, authentic Italian restaurant had his face not been numb. 

"Hey!" A voice called out behind him as his hand closed around the door handle. He groaned inwardly and turned, the cold air curling around his fingers and sucking the warmth from their tips.

"What?" Heero barked at the last obstacle to the wonderful thing commonly referred to as heat.

Vash's tall frame was hunched over the same misshapen mound on the sidewalk, and Heero knew what was coming next. "Look at this poor kitty. It doesn't have any tags…"

Dark sapphire eyes rolled heavenward as if asking the question, why, God, must I be stuck with this moron? He shot his friend a murderous glare, before switching his attention back to the restaurant's entrance. "Neither do you, now come on."

"I'm serious!" Vash protested, grinning at the shining set of small green eyes staring dolefully up at him. "He's so tiny – probably just a baby." He nuzzled his face against its teeny nose. "You're just a baby pussy cat, aren't you?" He turned to cast a similar, pleading expression up at his friend. "We can't just leave him out here all alone. He'll freeze to death."

"So will I if I have to stand here another second," Heero growled. "I didn't come to New York to play with pussy cats." He jerked open the door and disappeared inside Cipriani's.

"Yeah, that's part of your problem," Vash grumbled, throwing his friend's retreating form a narrowed-eye glance from his kneeling position on the sidewalk. He removed one of his gloves, offering a hand to the small cat, his smile widening when the cold, wet nose touched his fingertips. "Hey there little guy."

"Meow."

* * * * *

Warm air permeated his skin, and Heero flexed his hands, allowing the blood to give life once more to the corpse-like cells. He gulped in a few deep breaths marveling at how quickly his body recovered from the debilitating chill he left outside. 

The interior of Cipriani's glowed with a gentle light that danced across the rich red carpet and painted faces on the mural-painted walls. Scenes of happy couples strolling in a lush green countryside or white-shirted harvesters hard at work in a sunny vineyard captured Heero's attention when he stepped deeper inside the cheerful entranceway. As he moved forward, he could hear the comfortable crackle a fireplace from the dining room beyond where he stood, mixing with the din of hushed dinner conversations and the sweet, melodic strains of Italian opera playing softly in the background. He spotted the hostess's station, which appeared to be deserted at present, so he distracted himself by skimming a wall of photos picturing celebrities who had visited the small eatery over the years. Somewhere between Marlon Brando and the New Kids on the Block, he lost interest and glanced down at his watch. It read 7:29pm.

"Hn," he murmured, a small frown taking shape on his forehead. "Looks like I'll be waiting again." Before he could even lift his head to further complain about people not being punctual, the door swung open again, admitting a waft of cold air that stirred loose, golden locks which became pleasantly visible as she shook off her hood in a swift motion. 

"I hope I'm not late," she said through glossy lips fixed beneath healthy, cold-flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. 

He flipped his wrist and pulled back several layers so he could check his watch again, having still not thawed out enough to relinquish his coat. "No, you're on time."

Her glittering blue eyes darted upwards for an instant, while a finger thoughtfully tapped her chin. "Amazing how that happens when I don't have people shutting elevator doors in my face," she mused, once again settling her gaze on Heero.

"You shouldn't have been running late," he chided. 

"Neither should you." Relena crossed her arms, the amusement draining from her tone. "If you had been early enough, you wouldn't have felt the need to rush to get upstairs."

"I still…" He stopped himself from finishing the sentence. This was no way to be conducting business. And there were... other things he'd rather be discussing with her. Heaving an inward sigh, he conceded. "If I had been earlier," he nodded, "You're right Miss Peacecraft, it wouldn't have happened."

"Ah, so I'm back to being Miss Peacecraft again." She turned away from him, handing her coat to the young girl in charge of the cloak room and tucking the small claim ticket into her handbag. "Did you forget my name already? It must be difficult to lose your mind while you're still so young."

His lips stretched into a thin, exasperated line. He should have known that another dinner meeting with her had the potential to prove every bit as challenging as the first. However, a strange sensation now flickered within the confines of his chest, a feeling he recalled from last night as well. The occurrence startled him at first, nearly as much as the close proximity of her face as they attempted to keep their exchange quiet. "I didn't forget your name, Relena. Why is it you choose to insult me for showing you the proper respect one colleague deserves from another?"

"You misunderstand me completely, Mr. Yuy," she explained with a shake of her head, taking a step back. "I didn't insult you at all. The intellect is far from being the most treasured of man's many faculties, in my opinion. It tends to, more often than not, get in the way of his more noble nature."

Heero lifted an eyebrow as she continued. "Is that so?"

"Many a man who has been noted throughout history as having done great deeds often are revered for having no sense of logic."

"That depends on your definition of 'great,'" Heero countered.

"On the contrary, Mr. Yuy, I think it depends on yours."

"You're supposed to be calling me Heero, remember?" He asked, meeting her unwavering expression as she stood, waiting for his answer. A philosophical discussion hadn't been on his agenda for the evening, but the topic seemed to interest her. "War," he blurted out, deciding on what was, in his opinion, one of the grandest, logic-requiring events of which men were capable.

She merely smiled at him, as if she half expected his response.

"War? Let me ask you, what logical man can face certain death on blood-stained battlefields and charge right in, knowing full well that he might never again see those that love him?"

Heero gave no reply.

"The great intellectuals are always cowards. They think, they speculate, but rarely do they take action. They leave that to those who are passionate and willing to take the risks. And so to say that you have lost your mind is really no great loss at all. It would instead be a compliment, for it seems like you would make a greater impact on the world to live by the words spoken in the language of your heart than that of your mind."

Heero closed his eyes briefly, allowing his brain to sort through her voluble words. The wheels of his mind made a languid evolution as he fought against her unconscious talent for disarming his intellect with her very presence. "You would make a fine politician, Relena," he said finally. "I've never seen such eloquent back peddling that not only made an interesting point, but managed to turn an insult into a compliment."

The dazzling smile slowly faded into sincerity; the flesh around her eyes crinkled into honest lines tinged with a trace of sadness. 

"Again, Heero, I think you misunderstand me."

He frowned as she turned away, and had to strain to hear the softly spoken sentence he wasn't entirely sure she meant for his ears.

"It's better to lose your mind than it is to lose your heart."

He reached out and caught her arm before she could leave the secluded corner of the foyer, twisting her around to face him and steadying her with his other arm. His hand floated upwards, tilting her chin to where her eyes met his - and that was where he made his mistake. Those eyes pulled him in, like the mythological Sirens' song that lured brave sailors to their deaths. He felt himself lean forward, the very logic they had discussed just moments before having long departed. His mind fell short to reason why he held her now, in a loose embrace, but his lips were firmly focused in their search….

* * * * *

Van hopped from one foot to the other, circling the man who was kneeling on the sidewalk, in a sort of primitive, albeit annoyed, tribal dance. 

"Vash, come on," Van complained through chattering teeth. "We can't take the cat inside."

His red-clad friend scooped up the small, furry object of their debate, and held it up for Van to see. "But he'll turn into a little kitty-cicle! We can't just leave him out here."

Van fought the sensation to run over to the nearest building and bang his head on the brick wall. "Fine, we'll leave you out here and take the cat."

Vash pouted, cuddling the kitten under his chin. "You know with PMS you're almost as grumpy as Heero."

"I'm sure he'll be pleased you said that," Van replied, looking a deadly serious as he possibly could while ten seconds away from contracting hypothermia. "He'd hate to be dethroned as the King Grumpmeister, Chief of the Grumpalah tribe settled deep in the sprawling lands of Grumpdania."

Vash blinked. "Ooooooookay. Yikes - I take it back."

Quatre tapped Van on the shoulder, and peeked around his friend to address Vash. "Well, as entertaining as this is, I'm cold, and you know how much Heero hates it when people are late." The CFO reminded them, turning and taking a step towards the door. He stopped short as a woman in a long fur coat crossed his path.

"Oh excuse me, Miss." 

"I'm with you, Quatre," Van replied, heading towards the entrance while taking one last look over his shoulder at the software tester crouched near the alley.

"Here, kitty," Vash whispered. "I have an idea..."

Van shook his head and charged forward. Suddenly Quatre's voice whipped through the cool night air, fighting for his attention. "Watch out, Van!"

"Huh..."

He collided with something soft, warm and fragrant - a welcome change from the chill of the city streets and the scent of car exhaust that now seemed to cling to him wherever he went. Van squinted, untangling himself from the obstacle, while making an effort to smooth his rumpled coat before giving whoever had walked in front of him a piece of his mind. Glancing down to study his own appearance, he quickly noticed a pair of very feminine shoes standing across from him. His gaze travelled up a well-toned set of legs to the gold buttons on an elegantly cut velvet coat; and farther upwards to a graceful neck, touched by wisps of light brown hair that also framed... the flawless and delicate face of a young woman wearing an extremely ticked-off expression. 

"You should watch where you're going, lady."

"Excuse me..." 

* * * * *

Relena's eyes widened as Heero closed the distance between them. His lips drew nearer and she could feel the heat of his breath graze her already flushed cheek. Is he…

The door flew open, emitting a thunderous bang and a short blast of winter air. Heero stiffened and turned away.

"You are the rudest man I've ever met. It's one thing that you aren't gentlemanly enough to hold the door for a lady, but it's quite another to run me over and not even apologize." 

"I didn't see you. It's freezing out there and I was in a hurry."

"That's still not an apology."

The president of GLLC ran a hand through his hair, watching helplessly while his marketing VP made a not-so-subtle grand entrance in the midst of a shouting match with a complete stranger. Relena stood beside him, gaping at the scene unfolding before their eyes as another couple shuffled through door.

"My mother used to say that chivalry was dead, Hitomi. I never knew how right she was," A woman wearing a fur coat hissed aloud to no one in particular, tossing several strands of long blond hair behind her shoulder and moving to stand beside her friend. Quatre side-stepped the pair, hastily removing his gloves and taking up a position next to Van.

"Ladies, you have every right to be upset," he smiled, speaking in a calm and civilized voice.. "My friend indeed owes you an apology. But just because he didn't think before he acted in this case doesn't mean that all men…"

"I don't owe her an apology," Van snarled at the would-be peacemaker. "It was an accident, not something I did intentionally."

Hitomi scowled. "That's all the more reason why you should apologize."

"Van…" Quatre gritted out with an insistent glare.

"She's insulting," Van argued. "I didn't do…"

"You ran into me, stepped all over my feet with your monstrous…hooves, and almost sent Dorothy and I sprawling to the ground. That's hardly nothing in my estimation."

Van scrunched up his face, his eyes momentarily sweeping his own loafer-clad feet. "Hooves?"

Quatre threw his head back, staring up at the fresco ceiling. "Van, just apologize."

Dorothy took her friend's arm, leading her towards the coat check. "Don't worry about it, Hitomi. He's not worth your time." Dorothy cast a deliberate sidelong glance at where the two GLLC officers stood. "It takes a real man to say he's sorry."

"Miss... Dorothy, was it? I appreciate your concern for your friend, but sarcasm isn't helping the situation," Quatre said, making one last effort to gain control of the situation. "Van, you owe the lady an apology."

"I'm….I'm…."

Hitomi crossed her arms and looked away.

"I'm sorry," He blurted out, finally able to get a word in edge-wise.

Dorothy placed a hand over her heart, leveling a mocking stare at Van. "Wow, the sincerity in that is just so heartwarming."

"What do you want?" he seethed. "I'm busy. I wasn't paying attention. I have a dinner meeting and was freezing my butt off because my idiot friend wanted to play with a cat. It wasn't intentional. I didn't mean to hurt you. What else can I say?"

Hitomi bowed her head, feeling the anger dissipate under the warmth of the young man's soft brown eyes. "That's….fine, Van. Apology accepted."

A hint of a smile graced his features, only to disappear when Heero came into view, glowering at his pair of delinquent associates. "Are you two done making a spectacle of yourselves?"

"Yes." Van pushed passed Heero and went towards the hostess stand.

Heero cornered the remaining man. "You know I expect this of Vash, but you, Quatre?"

"What did I do?" The blond financial officer shrugged, bracing himself as yet another gust of cold air assaulted his exposed skin.

"I heard my name. Which means I must be in trouble. Perhaps I should just go back outside," Vash announced, finally joining the group.

"Get your butt over here," Heero commanded. "You have kept Miss Peacecraft waiting. You know how I hate…"

"No, it's quite all right," Relena cut in, smiling at the new arrival, then turning her amused expression on Heero. "It was very entertaining after all – especially seeing my top account executive in a shouting match with one of your partners when we're here to convince you to sign off on our contract changes."

Hitomi blushed. "Uhhhhhhhh. Sorry, Relena."

"Your account executive?" Van asked, his eyes darting from Relena to Hitomi.

"Never mind Van," Vash cut in, smiling at the women. "It's his time of the month."

Heero drew in a deep, ragged breath as he glared at the final partner. "Vash, I've changed my mind. Go wait outside."

"But boss…" Vash whimpered. "It's cold out there and I'm hungry. Besides," he grinned, sidling up to the PCC representatives, "you haven't introduced me to the lovely ladies, yet."

"Oh yes, I remember your picture from the front cover of that magazine," Dorothy observed, her eyes roving over Vash's lanky figure, spiked hair, oafish grin and flamboyant red coat. "You look…just like your photograph."

Vash's lower lip protruded. "You think so? It's my opinion that Meryl just threw that one on there to embarrass me."

"Oh, but…no, you're right," Dorothy nodded. "It doesn't quite do you justice."

"That's what I said!"

"Dorothy, be nice," Relena scolded.

"I am being nice,

"So, Heero," Vash begged, bouncing around the stoic man in the center of the foyer. "Are you going to introduce me or not?"

"I have a choice?" Heero questioned. "Then not."

Vash frowned. "Oh ha ha. Where are your manners Mr. Yuy?"

"I left them in Seattle apparently," Heero answered, catching Relena's eye. She gave him a small smile, looking up as Heero presented his business partners. "Vash, Quatre, this is Miss Peacecraft, and I'm not familiar…."

"This is my top account executive, at least until tonight, Hitomi Kanzaki," Relena said, stepping forward as the woman next to her reddened, , "and the head of our legal department, Dorothy Catalonia."

"Pleased to meet you." Vash and Quatre said in unison.

Dorothy nodded. "It's good to meet you, Mr…?"

"Vash just Vash."

"And you are?"

"Quatre Raberba Winner," The shorter blond answered, offering Dorothy his hand.

"Quatre and Vash are two of the partners in GLLC, the fourth is over there sulking." Heero said, turning his head in the direction of where Van stood glowering at the celebrity wall.

"Van Fanel is usually the VP of our marketing dept," Vash offered with smirk.

"Usually?" Hitomi asked.

"When he's not in evil dragon mode insulting our clients, then we claim he's VP of marketing. When he has PMS, he's in the Inhuman Resources department."

"Ah," Hitomi giggled. 

"I'm afraid we'll need to change our reservations with the hostess," Relena said to Heero, craning her neck to look for the still-absent woman who managed the reservations. "I'm sorry for not being able to inform you prior of the change in plans..."

"No, it's okay, really!" Vash interrupted, offering an arm to Relena, who, with some hesitation, linked it with her own. "The more beautiful women you want to bring along, the better in my book."

"Vash!" Quatre scolded.

Heero frowned, catching up with Vash and Relena as they made their way farther into the restaurant. "This is a business meeting." His fingers reached up and dug into the tester's shoulder. "Check the hormones."

"Yep, still got 'em." Vash smiled.

"I mean check them at the door. Or I'm going to throw you out on the street, and you can see if that cat will keep you warm."

Vash's hand came up as he gave his friend the customary salute. "Yes sir!" Without missing a beat, and knowing that Heero was walking beside them, Vash turned to PCC's Vice President. "So, tell me Relena, do you have a boyfriend?"

"Um, isn't that a bit personal?" She asked, staring up at her much taller escort.

"I'm just curious is all," Vash assured her, noticing that Heero had made no attempt to shut him up this time. "I'm sure you've had lots of guys knocking down your door…"

The long-lost hostess finally appeared at her station, and Heero wasted no time in ensnaring her before she wandered away again. "Miss, I have a reservation for 7:30p. It's for five people, but we had two more join us, so we need a table for seven."

"That's going to be a problem," the woman frowned, glancing over her list of available seating. "We don't have any open tables that can seat…" He slid a large bill onto the top of the hostess stand. "I'll see what I can do."

Noticing that Van was still estranged from the group, Quatre made his way over to where is friend stood, reading the hastily scrawled messages that the wall of stars had written for Cipriani's owner, Vinnie. "Can I trust you to sit at the same table with them and not make a scene?"

Van turned to the CFO, his eyes resting on the crimson carpet. "Yes."

"Good," Quatre smiled, motioning for Van to follow him back to where the others stood waiting. "You're the one that told Heero and I how important this is – getting their server line business – so don't blow it. And Miss Dorothy and Miss Hitomi are still quite annoyed with you."

Van sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't…"

"Not to me. To them." Quatre ordered, making Van remember why the usually mild-mannered blond was such an excellent negotiator.

"Fine."

The hostess returned at the same time, grabbing a handful of menus and leading them into the bustling dining area. "Right this way, ladies... gentlemen."

* * * * * *

"I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to warn you they'd be coming," Relena said from her place next to Heero. "Dorothy and Hitomi pretty much invited themselves, but it looks like it worked out okay."

An angry voice crashed through their conversation, causing them to shift their focus to the opposite end of the table. "How many times do I have to apologize to you!" Van spat, waving his napkin at the women seated across from him and Quatre. "Can't you let it go? I'm sorry already! Can we move on and talk about this contract or something?"

Hitomi stiffened and looked away. "Hmph."

"Or not," Van mumbled, studying the silverware.

"He's been in a bad mood all day," Vash pointed out, leaning in towards his dark-haired friend. "Not that you ladies would know anything about that."

"I'm never in a bad mood." Van argued.

Hitomi's head snapped around. "Well, it is good to know you don't get any worse."

Van frowned. "Hn."

"But are you ever in a good mood?" Dorothy questioned.

Giving them up for a lost cause, Vash turned to Heero. "Hey boss! Why don't we order a nice bottle of red to celebrate our new friends?"

"Vash."

"There's no drinking, you jerk," Van spoke up from the other end of the table.

"But wine isn't the same thing as drinking," Vash rationalized. "I thought it was just that Heero had to lay off the bourbon, and we had to forgo the hard stuff."

"It's no drinking period." Quatre reminded him.

"Why not?" Relena chimed in, studying the other GLLC officers, both of whom where growing paler by the second.

"Errrr….Heero doesn't like us to drink when conducting business," Van lied, gauging the woman for a reaction.

"That's a bit…strict." Relena commented, waiting for further explanation.

Van nodded. "He doesn't think we should allow alcohol to influence our decision process, isn't that right, Heero?"

Heero took a sip of his water. "It's a sound business practice,"

"Wow, everything for the intellect, huh?" Relena teased, settling back into her seat. "But you had wine with dinner last night."

"Hn." Heero shrugged, and caught the accusing stares from his three friends out of the corner of his eye.

"So. Why did you?" Relena pressed.

"I felt it would be impolite to decline once the maitre'd had already poured it. I would have made a bigger scene."

Relena raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"And I didn't actually drink any of it," he said, returning the hostile glances from the other end of the table before turning back to Relena. "Besides, I told you. I think he was trying to set us up."

The VP bowed her head, eyes catching the unsteady light of the candle at the table's center. "Ah."

"Speaking of which," Heero asked, anxious to change the subject, "did you bring that report?"

Relena raised her head and blushed slightly. "Hmmmmmm. No, I didn't. Must have forgotten, I guess."

"The report or my faults?" Heero inquired, watching a wide grin overtake her features. Her words ran in a steady stream, funneling directly into his ears. Heero watched with great intent as her mouth moved, once again threatening to draw him in.

"Oh, merely the report of course. With glaring faults such as yours, they are indeed not easy to forget."

He sat back, planting himself at what he felt was a safe distance and nudging his mind back into gear so that he could have a fighting chance of matching wits with the woman next to him. "As opposed to your own, albeit slight imperfections which are simple to overlook?"

She tilted her head, wagging a finger in his direction before turning away to claim her glass of water. "I never said that, but if you want to believe I'm perfect, I certainly won't argue with that perception."

Beaten again. "Hn."

Quatre's voice traveled up the table, it's tone far more stern than usual, edged with a hint of uncharacteristic frustration. "Miss Dorothy, I think it would be better if we just let the incident go. Van is sorry…"

Heero sat up, peeking over Relena's shoulder in time to catch his red-faced marketing VP shoot up from his chair and lean over the table, the fire in his eyes sparking at the two women who sat frozen and gaping at the man towering over them.

"You... she-devils have just not heard of the phrase forgive and forget have you?"

Quatre stood up beside him, "Van!"

"She-devils?" Hitomi mumbled with a disbelieving shake of her head, looking from Van to Quatre, then over to Dorothy. 

PCC's chief legal representative sat with a pinched expression, her knuckles white over clenched fists, while her whole body trembled, rage bubbling out in sharp, heated gasps from her flared nostrils. 

Vash gulped from his reclined position at the far end of the 'war zone'. "Uh-oh..."

An explosion of platinum blond hair rolled over the shaking table as Dorothy shot up, reaching for her hand bag and heading for the exit. "Well! I've never been more insulted in my life."

"Miss Dorothy…Miss Dorothy wait." Quatre called out, side-stepping Van and rushing passed the others.

"She-devils?" Hitomi repeated, catching Heero's fleeting eyes as he leveled a frigid stare at his friend.  
"Miss Kanzaki, my apologies. Van, if you stand up from this table again, it had better be to leave."

"I don't understand what is with those two." Van protested, grudgingly taking a seat and avoiding eye contact with Hitomi.

"Hn." Heero crossed his arms, his attention suddenly diverted when Relena rose from the table.

"Please, excuse me. I have to go talk to…Oh."

He reached up, taking her hand and gently guiding her back to her chair."Quatre can handle it."

Relena bit her lip, her eyes straying from the sight of Heero's hand covering her own to the blond woman rushing hastily towards the doors. "Ummm, but…"

"Trust me."

* * * * * *

Quatre charged after the departing attorney, weaving his way through the crowded tables in Cipriani's main dining room "Miss Dorothy, wait. Please don't go."

She finally came to a halt at the coat check, breathlessly rummaging in her bag for the claim ticket. "Mr. Winner, I have nothing else to say to you or that Cretan you call your friend."

"I know that Van was way out of line, Miss Dorothy," Quatre observed, "but the rest of us would like you to stay. Just because he can be a jerk doesn't mean that you should let him run you off. Unless, of course, you were just looking for a reason to leave."

"I think my presence at the table was far from welcome," Dorothy hissed, removing several tubes of lipstick and a compact from her purse, still searching for the elusive coat tag. A small piece of paper fluttered to the ground, catching Quatre's eye as it landed near his shoe.

"That's not true. I was enjoying your company. Please, for me?"  
Dorothy gave her bag a hearty shake, stopping only when she noticed her companion stoop to the floor. "I don't even know you. Why should I do you any favors?"

Quatre slid the much sought-after ticket across the smooth, polished surface of the counter. She finally met his pleading gaze after snatching the flimsy prize in her hand, and signaling for the girl to retreive her fur coat.

"You're right," Quatre granted. "You shouldn't have to do anything."

She sniffed and turned her head, ripping the coat from the girl's grasp and throwing it over her shoulders. Dorothy moved swiftly away from the counter, reaching for the door handle, but her pace slowed when she still sensed a presence behind her. 

"Mr. Winner. I thought I made it clear that I had nothing..."

"Please hear me out, Miss Dorothy," Quatre said, beginning to shiver as the cold night air crept in through the entrance way. "Not for Van or GLLC or even PCC, but just for me – please.... I can see that you're a good person by the way that you care for you friends, and I also believe that somewhere beneath all those layers you wear, there is a tender heart. One you wear far too easily on your sleeve."

Her hand tightened around the large brass fixture, but she hesitated, glassy eyes rising to meet Quatre's kind expression.

"I'm sorry he hurt you, Miss Dorothy. Truly sorry. And even though we don't deserve a second chance, I'm asking you anyway, please…don't go."

* * * * * *

"Where are they?" Relena asked as Vash dropped into his chair, still wearing his long red coat despite the fact that they were seated right near the fire place.

"At the bar," he answered, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "It took some convincing to get her to agree to come back and have dinner with Van still here, but Quatre managed to smooth things over and says they'll be back after they finish their Shirley Temples."

"Well, that's certainly good news. I have to admit I was a bit worried, and Dorothy can tend to over react," Relena admitted.

"Van had no business saying what he did," Heero added, curiously regarding Vash out of the corner of his eye. The tall blond had been sitting across from him squirming uncomfortably all evening, at least between several bouts of leering at Relena like he was some kind of...

"So, have you been able to see much of the city since you got here?" 

Her voice interrupted Heero's thoughts, and the sight of her smiling face reclaimed his attention. "Hn... Not really. We took a trip uptown today."

"Oh?" 

"Just saw the university and surrounding area."

"Columbia?" Relena guessed, mentally flipping through a list of colleges in the city.

"Yeah."

"What's there?"

"All right! Food's here." Vash proclaimed, sitting up straight and grinning widely like an eager child about to open a present.

"Yes, we can see the food, Vash. Thanks for the announcement," Van grumbled, earning a dirty look from both his business partner and Hitomi.

"Well," Heero continued, "The four of us never went to college. Maybe it's something we'd like to do."

"Really?" Relena questioned, fork poised over her salad. "That's…unexpected."

Heero raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"I thought geniuses were supposed to know everything

"Does he hate everyone or just everyone at this table?" Hitomi wondered out loud, gripping her butter knife in a way that reminded Vash of the shower scene from "Psycho." He slid into Dorothy's unoccupied seat, hoping that the attractive marketing rep didn't have any other Bates-like tendencies.

"Well, you see, Miss Hitomi, it's just that, well... Ehhhhhh…. Van is…don't you want to put that down?"

"I don't hate everyone." The dark-haired man insisted, toying with a cherry tomato.

Vash jumped up as the woman beside him shot forward, knife in hand. His heart raced when Hitomi speared a chunk of butter from the center of the table, viciously smearing it across her dinner roll. "Could have fooled me. Are you alright, Mr. Vash?

Vash collapsed into his chair. "I'm ok."

Heero's expression darkened. "I never claimed to be a genius."

"Oh, you mean you didn't get the memo?" Relena teased.

"Memo?"

"Declaring you a genius," she stated mater-of-factly. "The rest of us were all notified some time ago."

Van slammed his glass of water down hard, rattling the unused silverware. "I don't hate everyone!"

Hitomi put her hands on her hips. "You sure act like you do. I can't imagine you'd be able to sell anything much less market an entire product."  
Heero shook his head. "Actually, 'genius' is not a word I like to…."

"Most of our male clients and I get along just fine," Van sneered.

"Sincerely, if you hate the term, I understand." Relena said. "But I know you're very intelligent. And still, you think you need to go to college? You must have a good reason."

Heero drew in a deep breath. "It's…"

"Oh, so it's just that you have a problem with women?" Hitomi accused.

"Complicated."

Vash let out a long breath. "Here they go again…."

"What?" Van shouted, attracting concerned stares from diners at the surrounding tables. "How'd you get that…? You're just trying to make me angry again," he surmised, pointing an accusing finger at the young woman in front of him. "That's what you're about – making me mad so I'll react and then Heero will apologize and do whatever you want."

Hitomi stood up, ripping the napkin from her lap and lobbing it at Van. "You're crazy, you know that? I think I'm with Dorothy. I'm tired of being insulted by the likes of you."

"Well…" Relena sighed, watching Hitomi stalk her way out to Cipriani's deserted glass-enclosed lunch area. "It looks like it's going to be a long night, so we've probably got some time."

"Hn."

"Remind me to never invite you along on a double date, Van," Vash scolded. "You'll chase off both our women and everyone else's within a one mile radius."

"Shut up, Vash."

Heero leapt from his seat, his steely blue eyes flashing a warning not apparent in his tone. "Van, go apologize and do it now."

Van rose slowly in order to face his friend. "What…but…I…."

"NOW."

* * * * * *

He found her standing in the farthest corner of the darkened sunroom. The lights from the street filtered in through the shaded panes, bathing her form in an ethereal, pallid glow, causing her to look more like an angelic apparition than his hostile dining companion. He'd thought she was attractive from the first moment he saw her, but had tried not to dwell on feelings he would be unable to act upon. The fact that she now looked like some mythological goddess he had only dreamt about as a teenager reading fantasy novels was certainly not helping his plight. 

"Hitomi. Miss Kanzaki." Van's voice stretched thinly across the airy silence, his trembling hand following as he drew nearer.

"Don't touch me."

Her words hit him like a slap to the face. One he, no doubt, deserved. "Miss Kanzaki…"

She kept her arms crossed tightly, hugging herself against the chill in the room. "Go away."

Van halted when he reached her side, and she pivoted in order to fully avoid him. "Look…I'm…sorry. I'm sorry for what I said – all the things I said."

"I don't need your forced apology." Her voice wavered for an instant. "I know you didn't come out here on your own."

"There's no one else with me." He tried to smile. "No one but you." 

"That's not what I meant." Her tone held a frosty chill that could have rivaled the air outside. He couldn't get her to look at him. "Just go back to the table and eat. I'm fine."

The newborn smile died on his lips. "You're not fine," Van pressed, fighting to keep his voice low and even, despite the way his heart pounded wildly in his chest – whether it was from being this close to her, or the adrenaline still present from their earlier exchange, he didn't know. "You're mad and you're mad at me."

Hitomi spun around, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "You are the undisputed master of the obvious." Her mouth formed a perfectly shaped, pink line, with just a hint of irony in the indention of her chin. 

The skin around his eyes crinkled slightly, the dark shadows of the room hiding the look of amusement creeping across his face – her expression struck him as being cute. He sighed, his heart sinking back into its black temper, as he thought of how he had already blown any chance he might have had with her. "You have every right to hate me, I know. I've been…cross." Van relented.

"That's an understatement." Her breath puffed out from between her lips, and stirred the bangs that hung in wispy feathers over her forehead.

"Hn." He could feel the ire rising within him, but he pushed it down, struggling every step of the way. The look Heero had given him clearly stated that he was not to return to that table unless the situation was resolved. Taking a deep breath, Van pleaded his case, hoping to strike a sympathetic chord with her. "Well, it's not easy moving across country with those three. Not to mention the change in climate, and the lot of them, Vash especially, aren't easy to live with twenty-four hours a day. They've been getting on my nerves."

"That's tough to imagine," she remarked, her sarcasm adding fuel to the anger rekindling in the pit of his stomach. 

"From what I saw, I can't help but think it would be the other way around."

"Fine," he spat. "Forget I said anything. I apologized, and if that's not good enough for you, then I don't know what else I can do." He turned to leave, but her words caused him to stop as if an invisible wall had been placed in his path.

"You sure don't try very hard."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She took a step forward, fearlessly taking up a rigid stance right in front of him. "That you love to give excuses instead of taking responsibility for the things you do and say. It marks a distinct lack of maturity."

"You just called me immature?" He said, squaring his shoulders and throwing an accusatory glance in her direction. "I'm out here apologizing to you and you called me immature?"

Hitomi heaved a sigh of exasperation, stamping a high-heeled foot to emphasize her point. "Have you ever stopped and just listened to yourself?"

"Yes!" He shouted back, his voice suddenly trailing off. "Wait…what do you mean? Listen to what?"

"To you." She answered. "To the words that come out of your mouth. The way you say them. Have you ever stopped to consider how much you wound others with simple words?"

Van stared at her vacantly, as if she were speaking a completely different language. 

"Take Vash for instance. He was just enthusiastic over the arrival of our meal, and you not only treated him like an idiot, you hurt his feelings. You should think more about others before you speak," She lectured. "The world doesn't revolve around you."

"I…" 

"We all have feelings," Hitomi continued, "just like you. We all hurt sometimes, just like you. We all have our good days and bad ones – just like you. Consider that sometime."

She seemed to be on the verge of tears, Van noticed, as she stiffened and backed away from him. He could only liken the sensation pounding through his body with being punched in the stomach - breathless, unable to move or speak. He studied the picture she made, standing there before him, framed in the strange light of this strange city – so angry, so hurt…so beautiful.

"I'm sorry…Hitomi, Miss Kanzaki," he said finally, afraid he would stumble over the words. "I'm really very sorry I hurt you."

She smiled, for the first time since they'd met, he noted, and walked slowly towards him. "Hitomi is fine, Van. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry, too."

"Will you come back and eat with us?" He asked, gesturing in the direction of the dining room as the request tumbled from his lips. "I'd…I'd really like it if you would stay."

Hitomi looked up at him. "Even after my speech?"

"Even after your speech." He nodded.

"Okay, then."

"Not that you're right or anything." Van added, the higher temperature of the inner dining room assaulting his cheeks.

"Oh, of course not," Hitomi assured him. "I wouldn't dream of the great Van Fanel actually admitting I might be right."

He tried to scowl at her, but she had that cute expression on her face again. "Hn." His grunted reply sounded far too cheerful in his opinion, but when she took his arm, he no longer cared.

* * * * * *

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, Vash thought, adjusting the front of his coat and changing position in his seat for what seemed like the millionth time that evening. Even with all the "excitement" of the corporate battle of the sexes, the night still dragged on at an insufferably snail-like pace. If he could just make it through dinner with no mishaps, he had a fighting chance of Heero not killing him when they got home. 

Even still, despite his preoccupation, he had to admit that he couldn't have planned the match-making arrangements any better. He watched Van return, politely helping Hitomi into her chair before sitting down himself. Quatre soon followed, guiding a much calmer Dorothy back to her place beside Hitomi just in time for the main course to arrive. Heero and Relena had kept their exchange quiet for most of the evening, but Vash was pretty well satisfied that he'd seen all he needed to see. Now all he required was a plan. 

But... no one can plot against his friends on an empty stomach, and he was very sure that the monstrous growling coming from his gut couldn't be helping things. He inhaled his steaming plate of chicken parmesan, then sat back in his chair next to the fireplace and waited for the others to finish. As much as he hated to pass up dessert, maybe the ladies would be full and they could get this over with all the sooner. 

"I can't eat another bite," Hitomi proclaimed, pushing her nearly empty dinner plate off to the side.

"I second that," Dorothy attested. "I was looking forward to some cheesecake, but I don't think I'll be able to manage."

Vash couldn't help but grin. Nothing but smooth sailing from here on...He glanced over at the fire crackling and smoldering in the large, brick enclosure and tried to spur his mind into action. Instead, he felt the heavy pull of a sated stomach on his eyelids. They fluttered closed, lulled further into sleep by the pleasant hum of conversation from the table's occupants. Everything was good…

A slight vibration scurried down the length of the oak, as if someone was rising from their seat. Are they leaving already? The faint thought sought to separate him from his shallow dozing. He tried to blink open his eyes, but met with some resistance. Until a remembered female voice sliced through the haze with a single, razor sharp edge.

"Meryl?" 

His head snapped up when he heard Relena call out the familiar name, all semblance of peace and dreams disintegrating like the log consumed by the fire. "Oh man... Please let her know another woman named Meryl!" He pleaded under his breath, biting his lip when the easy to recognize petite frame and dark hair came into view. Uh-oh... 

"Miss Relena! What a surprise to find you here – and with Mr. Yuy." She turned her head and sharp, eagle eyes sought his. "And Mr. Vash!"

"No such luck," Vash mumbled, sinking in his chair and catching a withering glare from Heero. "Hello, reporter girl. Fancy meeting you here," he spat.

Meryl grinned. "Life is just full of coincidences, isn't it, Mr. Vash?"

"You don't say," he choked out.

"Please, Meryl, won't you join us for some coffee – and maybe some dessert? We were just finishing up our meeting here," Relena offered, gesturing for the reporter to take the empty seat between Vash and Dorothy. The spiky-haired blond sank further in his seat, wondering if he could crawl away without anyone noticing. But blissful escape was blocked by the persistent nightmare.

"Thank you very much, I'd love to," Meryl said. She settled into the chair, producing her notebook and a pen from what seemed like thin air.

"So, may I ask why the top officials from Gundanium and PCC are having a dinner meeting?"

"I'll buy you some pie if don't ask," Vash whimpered.

"Well, I suppose the story can wait," Meryl said. "But a promise is a promise, Mr. Vash."

"And what promise would that be?" Van questioned from across the table.

"I'd certainly like to know," Heero added, staring at his wild-haired associate.

Vash's eyes darted from one known grump to the other, a look of torment overtaking his face as what felt like a dozen tiny knives dug into the flesh of his abdomen. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse... 

"Vash, are you all right?" A kind voice called down the length of the table. His eyebrow twitched and he sucked in a deep breath, trying not to cry out.

"I'm fine, Miss Relena, thanks." He winced as the blades struck a nerve. Light green eyes darted back and forth, noting he had the whole table's attention. He tried to smile, but was sure he didn't manage more than a grimace. "It's just a little..."

"Meow." 

This is not good...He gulped in air and visibly relaxed as the tiny claws finally extracted themselves from the flesh of his stomach. 

"Vash, what the hell was that?" Heero leaned forward, his voice low, but still managing to ooze menace from across the table.

Meryl squinted, eyeing him oddly with the hint of a smirk on her lips. "It sounded like a..."

"Meow."

"Just my stomach!" Vash called out, cutting the reporter off before she could finish her sentence. He widened his eyes at her, trying to send a silent message. "Still hungry, I guess." He forced a laugh and plastered on a wide smile. "Who'd have thought it after that great big..."

"Meow." 

Uh-oh. The grin froze in place as he watched Heero's countenance change from a calm, normally stony pale color to a chortled red streaked with white – evidence that he was trying to contain his temper. Vash felt his blood run cold at the same time icy beads of perspiration formed all over his body. A mad boss was not a good thing…

Heero's eyes narrowed. "Vash..."

The tester launched himself from his chair, not even bothering to glance over his shoulder at his confused dinner companions. "Would you excuse me," he called out, rapidly retreating towards the front entrance as fast as he could go without breaking into a dead sprint. He spun around in a belated effort to explain himself, walking backwards as he offered the quick, and horribly lame excuse. "Gotta go powder my no..." He bumped into something solid – a body. He whirled around, ready to apologize to the poor soul he had inadvertently stumbled over, but was met with the taut, livid expression of…"Uhhhh, hello, boss."

They had paused near the entrance to the foyer, standing at the edge of the dining room with other tables in close proximity. Puzzled diners glanced up, their focus drawn to the tall man dressed in red, who was positioned with his back to the room, along with a shorter, very angry looking man in a suit. From Van's vantage point, he could only see their backs – from their chests down, his line of vision was obstructed by a polished oak half-wall. Meryl stood and crept towards the scene, gaining a better view. 

"Vash!" Heero roared, drawing even more perplexed stares. "Tell me that you didn't bring that THING in here with you."

The software tester bowed his head, as his fingers came up to undo the buttons on his coat. "Well, I couldn't help it, boss. It is kinda attached to me..."

"What are they up to?" Hitomi asked in a low voice that curled pleasantly into Van's ear. She stretched her graceful neck in an attempt to see what the pair of men were actually doing at the front of the room. 

Dorothy blinked and looked down, having gained her feet just after Meryl. "Oh my God! It looks like they're playing with his..."

"Come on, boss, just pet him!" Vash's voice carried over the now silent room. Van shot up from his seat, and felt his jaw drop at the sight of Heero, bent forward and intently studying something around Vash's waistline. 

The president of GLLC recoiled, taking a step backwards while the room's other occupants looked on. "Vash, there is no way in hell I am touching it! I don't know where it's been! And you were playing with it out in that filthy alley..." Heero shouted.

Relena brought a hand up to cover her mouth as the two continued.

"Oh, now you sound like Mr. Germ-o-phobe Van. Just touch him – it won't kill you!" Vash argued. 

Everyone at their table stared at the GLLC Marketing VP. 

"What?!" Van demanded, horror dripping down his spine as his eyes sought out Hitomi's appalled expression. "I've never seen Vash's... well..."

"I told you, Vash. I am not laying a hand on your..."

"Awwww. Look, boss. He likes you!"

"Oh my goodness," Meryl gasped. "I knew Vash was a freak, but I didn't think that he and Heero were..."

"Zip it up, Vash!" Heero continued, unaware that the entire restaurant was now captivated by their performance. "This is an eating establishment, for goodness sakes. What on earth possessed you? Did you think you could take it out and play with it at the table?"

"Would someone please fill me in?" Quatre leaned in and whispered to his friend. Van glared at him and backed away. 

"I don't want to see yours, either."

The financial officer's eyes widened and his complexion paled. "It's not like I want you to!"

"Well," Vash's voice caught the group's attention once again. "I was hoping I would make it til we got home, but I figured if worse came to worse, maybe the girls might like it."

Audible gasps and whispers swirled throughout the room. Relena gaped and exchanged glances with the other girls. Van sunk down in his seat – stunned he had never picked up on his friend's tendencies. They fight a lot, and they say opposites attract, but…

"They don't want to see that thing!" Heero growled, staring daggers up at much taller blond.

Van stared at his business partners. So when did this all start? I remember in high school, Heero looked at Playboy the same as the rest of us…well, the rest of us but Quatre. WAIT A MINUTE! What about all Vash's girlfr-.

"But, boss, I couldn't just leave him!" 

"Vash, for the millionth time. No one wants to see the damn CAT!"

The din of voices rose all over again, repeating the word over and over. "Cat?"

"Cat...?"

"Cat?" Relena asked, shooting a searching glance at Hitomi and Dorothy. They shrugged.

"Ugggggghhhh... He brought that stupid cat in after all," Van complained, bringing a hand to his forehead as relief settled over his tense shoulders. "I can't believe that moron sometimes."

"A cat?" Meryl asked.

"He found it outside," Quatre told her, stifling a chuckle. "He didn't want it to freeze or go hungry, but we couldn't take it home because we were coming here to meet Miss Relena."

Ice blue eyes met his. "So it had nothing to do with his, well-"

"No, Miss Dorothy," Quatre laughed. "Leave it to Vash..."

"Well, kitty," Vash smiled, extracting the bundle of fur from his dress shirt. "I wonder what I'll do with you now. Guess we can just go..."

"I'll watch him til you're finished," The girl at the coat check smiled. 

"Wow, thanks a lot," Vash grinned, handing the cat over the young lady. "Very much appreciated.

Heero made his way back the table, his ears red in part from his shouting match with his business partner, and also due to the lopsided stares he received from pretty much everyone in the entire place. He came to one conclusion as he stared at the now empty water glass before him. He missed bourbon. He missed bourbon a lot.

* * * * * *

"Well, this has been an eventful evening," Relena's mouth curved into a thin smile as their waitress cleared away the last of the dessert dishes. "Life with you must never be dull."

Heero frowned, mentally reliving the scene from an hour ago with Vash and his cat. "Not by choice," he mumbled.

"Of course," Relena said, glancing down the table to where her two business associates were chatting happily with the other GLLC officers. "That side of the table has been noticeably quieter since Van spoke with Hitomi. Thank you for stepping in."

"You don't have to thank me," Heero said. "It's only common decency that if he's made her angry, he should apologize. After all, it's what's best for our business."

"Yes, well..." Relena mused, sipping her coffee. "I suppose that's the only reason you apologized to me, then."

Heero lowered his eyelids, pressing them tightly closed as his head leaned slightly forward. "Hnnnn.."

"Well?" 

He stiffened and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his features revealing no hint of emotion. 

Her gaze dropped to the crimson tablecloth. "I see."

"Relena….it wasn't the only reason." He turned to face her. 

She looked up at him again, the golden waves of her hair catching the light and captivating his already wavering senses. "So, what was the other one?" 

"The other what?" He asked, the words escaping his mouth in a languorous procession.

"The other reason," Relena persisted.

"Hn."

Tiny creases formed on her forehead, and her eyes bored into him, causing that fleeting, flustered sensation that he had not yet become accustomed to. The pit of his stomach made room for the sinking realization that he had unwittingly backed himself into a corner not easily escaped. 

"That's not a reason."

"I…I didn't want you angry with me." He struggled for air, feeling short of breath as his heart rate picked up. It forced blood from his brain and left him feeling strangely dizzy.

"Right," Relena assented. "But why would that be important? You had our contract revisions, what difference would it make whether you and I get along personally?"

"Because I…" His mind kicked into gear, reeling, flailing desperately like a drowning man in search of a life preserver. He had only apologized to her for the good of the business…hadn't he? But to tell her that…Would be a lie, he finally admitted with a cleansing sigh. "I've never really cared what people thought, but...your opinion of me...matters....and I didn't want a phone call from your brother chewing me out."

"Leave it to you to bury a compliment beneath an insult."

"Insult?"

"Never mind," She smiled with a shake of her head, nonchalantly stirring the remainder of her cappuccino. "I'm resolved not to take offense at things you say that seem inadvertent…"

Heero stiffened. "I didn't mean that I only apologized to keep your brother off my back. It figured into the equation, but it wasn't the major part of my decision."

Her eyes widened. "So, you aren't completely oblivious."

"Sometimes I am," he shrugged. 

"Well, admitting it is the first step to recovery."

Heero grimaced. She got me again. "Hn."

"Ah, we're back in 'I'm-so-grumpy mode'. Hn." She mocked, stifling a giggle when she noticed his sour expression.

Heero's eyes slanted at the VP beside him. "I'm just here to amuse you."

She laughed this time, the sound musical and genuine as it tickled his ears. Her hand came up to rest on his arm – an innocent touch that managed to burn through the sleeve of his shirt and leave its mark on his skin. 

"Anyway, back to our conversation from a million years ago, you should take some time out to view the city. There are several really excellent tours on double-decker buses, or for the really well off, you can hire a private driver to show you around."

Heero glanced down at where her hand still loosely gripped his forearm before meeting her eyes again. "What about a private tour guide?" 

"Well," Relena began, sitting up in her chair and dropping her palms into her lap. "You see the driver acts like…"

"No, I had someone else in mind."

She cocked her head to one side, all the while toying with the edges of her napkin. "You...? Oh, well…I don't have anything planned for Saturday. I suppose if you were really interested, I could find some time to give a tour for a friend. What would you like to see?"

"I'll leave the details to you."

"All right," she agreed. "Well, then, Saturday it is."

The coffee cups had been filled and re-filled, the bill had been paid, and the last of the other patrons were slowly gathering their coats and handbags, preparing for the fearsome winter air that would greet them upon leaving Cipriani's cozy enclosure. 

Dorothy stretched in her seat, taking a quick glance at her wristwatch. "Well, it's been a lovely evening," she said, eyes fixed on Quatre, "but we really should be going."

The woman beside her nodded. "Yeah, our boss is a real slave driver."

"Uh-huh." Relena smirked, rising to her feet. "I'll remember that, Hitomi."  
"Awwww…you girls have to leave so soon?" Vash sulked, his green eyes darting piteously from woman to woman. "We were just getting to know each other better. Come on, stay just a little while longer. Please?"

"That's really very sweet of you, Mr. Vash," Meryl said, collecting her notebook. "But we should get going. It's never a good idea to be out too late on this city's streets."

"Oh!" Vash grinned, jumping to his feet and giving a slight bow. "Well, then allow me to at least escort you lovely ladies to your car."

Hitomi took a step back. "It's really unnecessary, Mr...."

Vash waved his hand, following the women to the coat check. "Ah pish-posh. It's the least I can do."

Relena mouthed at Heero. "Pish posh?"

He just shrugged in reply and stood up as she departed.

"We can't let any nasty old muggers get my favorite computer girls, or the reporter girl." Vash insisted. Meryl turned to glare at him.

"Riiiiiiiiight."

"So, with you nearby, we're protected out of professional courtesy?" The blond attorney asked on the way out.

"Dorothy, behave," Relena whispered. 

"Professional courtesy?" Vash blinked, helping the VP into her coat. "No, I just…"

"She means the freaks will leave us alone out of professional courtesy to you." Meryl grinned in a sly expression.

Vash pouted. "Awww, man, I've been dissed."

"He's actually kind of cute… In his own way," Hitomi smiled.

Meryl gave the other woman a cock-eyed stare. "Ehhh, I don't know about that."

Their escort crossed his arms and stuck out his lower lip. "Gee, thanks a lot."

* * * * * *

"Well, I don't know how productive that was, but they were really nice." Quatre said, resting his chin on an upturned hand while he watched the PCC girls file out.

"It doesn't matter how nice they are," Van groused. "They're our clients, nothing more." He moved towards the window, watching Hitomi come into view just as a cab pulled up at the curb outside the restaurant.

"I don't see why they can't be our friends as well as our clients." The blond CFO watched Dorothy disappear through the main entrance. "Right, Heero?"

Heero's eyes darkened as Vash held his arm out for Relena in a gesture to escort her to the door. She linked her hand through his and smiled up at the blond software tester. "Hnnnnn, Quatre?"

"I said that just because PCC is our client doesn't mean they can't be our friends."

Relena let go of Vash's arm, and he turned to engulf her in a large hug. Before fully pulling away, he kissed her cheek, earning a slight blush in reply. "There is not friendship in business," Heero repeated, his voice like a frigid harbinger of the winter air they would be exposed to when they left for home. "We can't afford to give PCC any sort of preference in regards to our contractual obligations."

Vash led her through the doorway, and the final glimmer of her golden hair was swallowed up by the darkness of the night.

"But…we're all friends, aren't we, Heero?" Quatre's blue eyes darted away from the window to focus on his friend. "Or have we all become a contractual obligation to you as well?"  
Van turned back towards the table, unable to ignore the exchange going on between his friends. "Quatre…"

"I can't agree with you, Heero," the blond said, all but ignoring Van's presence. "I think that we can be friends with our clients, and I think that we should be whenever possible."

"That's why you're not president of this company."

* * * * * *

"Don't take this the wrong way or anything girls, but are all four of you going to fit in there?" Vash craned his neck, studying the cramped rear half of the taxi that Dorothy had hailed. "I mean, I know how tight a fit that can be."

"We'll be fine" Hitomi assured him, climbing in. "One of us can ride up front."

"Yeah," Vash smiled, helping Relena into the car. "And I guess Miss Meryl doesn't take up much room, either. She's pretty small."

"Hey!" Meryl protested, standing up as straight as she could. "Just because I'm not a seven foot tall bean pole like you doesn't mean I'm small."

"I'm six foot four," Vash corrected, opening the front door for Dorothy. "But I can understand where anything more than about five foot five would seem like seven feet to you."

Meryl's face contorted. "Errrrrrrg."

He leaned down and pecked her cheek. "Don't sweat it. You're still my favorite reporter girl. Have a good night, Miss Meryl." She plopped into the taxi's backseat, a small hand coming to rest on the spot where his lips had just touched. 

Their escort turned around and started back into the restaurant. "Goodnight computer girls, I'll be seeing ya." He tossed another smile over his shoulder at the departing cab.

"Good night Mr. Vash," Meryl said as the car began to move.

"You two sure seem like you're on friendly terms," Hitomi observed, quickly drawing Meryl out of her daze. The reporter sat up, sucking in a deep breath before starting on her defense. 

"Who, me and Vash? Never. Not in a million years."

"Uh-huh" Dorothy teased from the front seat. "I think you're sweet on him, Meryl."

"He's a freak!" Meryl protested, crossing her arms and glaring at the ceiling of the cab. "And a pervert. You girls have NO idea. Could you even imagine what his kids would look like? There's absolutely no way…."

"I thought he was very sweet and considerate," Hitomi said. "Unlike some other people at the dinner table that shall remain nameless." She feigned a coughing noise around the words "Van Fanel".

"Oh, whatever, Hitomi." Dorothy blurted out with a roll of her eyes. "You've definitely got the hots for him."

"What?" The marketing rep all but shouted, raising her hand as if swearing on a bible. "Never. Absolutely not. I've never met a more arrogant, self-centered jerk in my entire life. I'd never ever…I have too much self-respect to go out with the likes of him."

"It's okay Hitomi," Dorothy sighed, "he likes you, too."

"Really? You think so?"

"Dorothy, stop trying to set everyone up," Relena interrupted, almost wishing she'd let Vash call that second taxi. "Men and women can be friends without wanting to hop into bed."

The corporate attorney turned and locked gazes with her friend, one eyebrow twitching up into a smug expression. "No they can't."

"Yes they can."

"No, they can't."

"Yes, they can," Relena persisted. She raised her head and straightened her shoulders. "Case in point, look at me and Mr. Yuy. We're…"

Dorothy's pearly white teeth glinted in the shadows as a mischievous smile spread across her features. "Oh yes, let's look at you and Mr. Yuy, since you brought it up."

"We're friends." Relena said, a trace of finality in her tone, though she got the distinct picture she had just played right into the attorney's trap. 

Dorothy smirked. "Uh-huh. I saw the way he was looking at you."

"Business associates, Dorothy, remember?"

"That's not what I heard," Meryl chimed in.

Relena's eyes grew wide as she turned to the reporter seated nest to her. "What do you mean?"

"I heard you two were an item," Meryl informed her, adding an affirmative nod.

Relena gaped. "Where did you hear that?"

"Oh, nowhere in particular." The reporter smiled, drumming her fingers on the door's armrest. "So, how about the scoop? Are there wedding bells in your future?"

"We're not an item!" Relena said, grateful for the darkness so that the others couldn't see the color rushing to her cheeks. "There's nothing going on between us that isn't business."

Dorothy cleared her throat. "His face's own margent did quote such amazes, that all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes, I'll give you Z/OS and all that is his, and you give him for my sake but one loving kiss1."

"You're imagining things, Dorothy," the VP mumbled.

"Oh, I don't think so, Relena," the attorney countered. "He was definitely looking at you with more than friendship in his eyes."

"How could you even have had time to pay attention to anything but your not-so-private war with Mr. Fanel?"

"I saw, Relena," Hitomi giggled. "It was so obvious – even more so than the way Ran Fujimaya looked at you that first afternoon…oops."

"Hitomi Kanzaki."

"I'm sorry, Relena," Hitomi said, her head bowed, but quickly upturned with pleading eyes fixed on the woman beside her. "Meryl, please, you can't print that."

"I can and I will if you don't tell me more about PCC's connection with Weiss Kreuz." The aggressive reporter instantly flipped out her spiral bound notebook.

"Meryl," Relena began in a patient tone, eyes resting on the driver's seat in front of her. "That's not something we can discuss at this time. Please..."

"Relena, it's my job. So…come on."

"No," the VP insisted. "It could jeopardize our contract negotiations with both Weiss and GLLC."

"If you don't tell me, prepare to see your name romantically linked to Mr. Fujimaya's in my next column, anyway." The writer taunted.

"Don't threaten her, Meryl," Dorothy hissed from the front seat. There was no hint of amusement in her tone. "You know how important this launch is to our company. If it bombs because of you, expect BFW to be slapped with a nice, big lawsuit."

"Dorothy…"

The blond whipped her head around, her frosty eyes connecting with their intended target as the cab rolled to a stop. "Off the record, Meryl. If our Epyon class servers don't impress the shit out of the crowd at the MO-II conference, by this time next year, our company will be belly up. These contract negotiations with GLLC are critical to ensuring our survival, and if you do one thing that might remotely screw it up, I'll sue BFW and I'll sue you personally. Is that clear?"

Meryl nodded, watching silently as the attorney exited the car, slamming the door behind her.

"This is my stop, too," Hitomi said, searching for the door handle. "Good night, Relena, Good night, Meryl." 

"Good night, Hitomi."

The two dark figures clutched their coats against their bodies as they darted towards the front door of the apartment building. The cab stayed until the women were both safely inside before it rolled away from the curb.

"Please don't be offended by Miss Catalonia," Relena told the reporter after a brief silence. "She's used to dealing with some pretty stubborn people – she's an attorney after all."

Meryl smiled, taking a deep breath. "Don't worry about it, Relena. Being a reporter requires a thick skin. I know she's just being protective of you and PCC."

"Yeah." The VP nodded, turning to stare out the window.

"Is it…is it really that bad?" Meryl stuttered, her precious notebook falling to her lap as she stared at the young woman sitting on the opposite side of the cab.

Light washed over them in modern, multicolored waves as the car continued on its course through the city. There was a long pause in which the computer exec didn't move or speak. Meryl began to wonder if the girl had even heard the question.

"Which?" Relena asked finally, her eyes never straying from the window.

"The company – are you really…"

"No."

"If it is, I could probably…you know, at the MO-II conference…" The reporter offered.

Relena spun away from the window, meeting her friend's eyes with a small but genuine smile. "We're fine, Meryl. Thank you," she said, and returned her attention to the passing landscape. "Dorothy was just exaggerating to make a point. Of course our negotiations with Gundanium are important, but PCC has never been more financially stable." The executive's posture seemed to stiffen before uttering what sounded like a challenge. 

"You can even check it out for yourself."

Meryl frowned at the VP's back. You're a proud woman, Relena, and a smart one. But I've seen enough of your protective nature to know you're not always a truthful one. And I'm more than determined to find out what it is you're hiding.

****************************************************************************

1= From the Shakespearean play, Love's Labours Lost. 

"His face's own margent did quote such amazes, that all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes, I'll give you Acquitaine (Z/OS) and all that is his, and you give him for my sake but one loving kiss." 

We substituted, in this case, our Acquitaine, Z/OS, and luckily, didn't even lose the rhythm of the original line.


	7. Vash shrugged “Well, I’m glad you are s...

AN: Well, this chapter was a bit delayed due to Akon festivities – we had waaaaay more fun than really should be legal. ^__~ If you missed Akon 13, we'll be at AnimeFest in Dallas Labor Day weekend (Aug 30-Sept 2). If you're going to be there, look us up!

A note to Vash x Meryl fans: We ARE working on building their relationship, though it might not be so evident this time out.  Their circumstance is a bit different than the others… but we're planning on ch. 8 being a big one for them, so please bear with us!

Thanks for reading!  Please enjoy!

Love Stella & Rose 

**Love's Labours Lost**

By Stella and the Black Rose

**Chapter 6**

[Subway]

The four GLLC officers braved the frigid winter night after their dinner at Cipriani's, and marched to the station in frozen silence. But Vash soon noticed that the strained air between his three friends had ceased to thaw when they finally reached the warmer confines of the uptown express. Heero wore his usual tight-lipped and dark expression, though a scowl was etched more deeply into his features since they left the restaurant. He sank down a few seats away, followed by an equally stone-faced Van, who plopped down on the opposite side.

It was Quatre, however, that caused the spikey-haired software tester to sit up straight. He watched his friend stalk in behind them, whirl away from the group, and plunk down in a spot as far away from the others as possible in the nearly vacant car. The doors hissed closed, and the ground jolted beneath their feet. Lights dimmed and an indistinguishable voice blared from the loud speaker, pulling Vash's mind from his friends. The subway drew away from the station, picking up speed as it went. Vash stifled a yawn and settled back in his seat.

Green eyes peered beneath lazy lids, squinting against the passing lights of the 42nd street platform before they disappeared behind the dank midnight darkness of the connecting tunnel. His head lolled in time with the clacking of the train; the sway of the subway car combated his half-hearted attempt to stop dozing. 

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention as Quatre shifted in his seat, turning more of his back towards the group. Vash shook his head and fixed his stare on the blond man again. Something was definitely wrong.

"Quatre?" Blue-green eyes met his for a moment, but quickly found their way back to the floor. Vash didn't heed the unspoken message. "Is everything alrigh-…"

His voice was drowned out as the train lurched forward again, screeching and howling to a halt. Vash bit his lip, and shifted his gaze between his three brooding business partners before settling into the dim, wordless void and giving in to his heavy eyelids…

"Can ya spare any change, mister?" Vash blinked, sleepily trying to focus on the man standing in front of him. The smell of soot and damp city streets wormed its way into his nostrils, rising from the tattered, splotchy overcoat the stranger wore.

"What's that?"

The man stretched out a calloused, dirt-streaked hand, almost toppling over when the car suddenly jolted. "I'm hungry, mister, can you spare a dollar or two?"

"Oh, sure thing, friend," Vash yawned, mindlessly rummaging through his coat. He searched for his wallet, but instead pulled out a handful of colorful flyers he'd collected from his time downtown, then a pile of floppy disks, sandwich wrappers, and from the opposite pocket…

"Meow."

"Ya know, pal, it's ok…" the ragged passenger said, leveling a cock-eyed stare at the tiny black cat resting on Vash's lap as he backed away. "I don't think I wanna know what else you got in there."

The blonde's jaw slackened and he stole a quick glance down at the sleeping kitten. "Oh, well… I don't normally keep small animals in my…"

"Forget it…" he mumbled, glancing around the all but deserted train and catching sight of Quatre at the far end. "Hey, what about you, pal. Buy a guy a cup of coffee?" He stumbled into the CFO as the subway jerked forward, heading for the next station.

"Get away from me."

The stranger raised his arms as if in surrender and took a step back. "Huh, well ya don't have to get uppity, all I was askin for was a …"

Quatre jumped to his feet, the veins in his neck straining while he barked at the unkempt, homeless man. "What do I look like? Some kind of easy prey? You think I'm a pushover? I meant what I said. Get the hell away from me!"

"Man, boss, what did you say to Quatre?" Vash whispered while the bum quickly exited the car. He stole a wide-eyed glance at the young man whose body trembled with a rage visible even under the heavy woolen layers he wore.

"None of your business," Heero grumbled, his eyes boring holes in the floor. 

Vash rose to his full height and glowered down at his friend. "Or was it Mr. Eloquent over here," he guessed, turning accusatory eyes on Van, "who has a knack for pissing off only our most important clients or is it all women in general?"

"I thought I only pissed off idiots like you," the VP snarled.

"Not working," Vash sniffed. "I've become immune to your insults."

The CFO pushed passed his partners, trudging towards the exit to the next car. "Would you three stop with your pissing contest?"

"Quatre! You need to get out of this city. It's turning you into a rude New Yorker," Vash called out to his friend's retreating back. 

"I don't blame him." Van scowled, crossing his arms and glaring out the window at a lighted platform that flashed by – apparently not a stop on the express route. "After what Mr. I'm-not-just-the-president-I'm-also-a-client-of-Jerks-R-Us said to him."

"What'd he say?" Vash demanded. He looked passed Van and narrowed his sharp green eyes at Heero. 

Steel blue flashed in the weak, overhead lighting. "I told you, none of your business."

"It is my business when you're hurting one of my friends." Vash shouted, gesturing towards the door that had just slammed shut behind Quatre.

Heero remained still, his tone unaffected. "I didn't say anything that wasn't true."

"That's bullshit, Heero, and you know it," Van cut in, stepping in front of Vash. "You were out of line."

"Heero," Vash pleaded. "Quatre is our friend, remember? Why would you…"

"Friends," Heero seethed. "You're such a sap, Vash." He shot out of his seat and stomped to the subway car door. The train screeched as it came to a halt. 

"Well, I'd rather be a sap than what you are!" The tester fumed, pounding a fist on the metal door. "You're dangerously close to taking a one-way trip to permanent solitude, friend. And I, for one, refuse to be an attendee at the going-away party."

"What are you talking about?" Heero grumbled, stepping swiftly out onto the dingy cement as soon as the panel shooshed aside.

"I'll tell you later. I hope." Vash mumbled, watching his friend storm off - twenty blocks before their stop.

"Hey boss, wait up!"

Heero's pace never slackened; he kept his head down and hands shoved deep in his pockets while Vash bounded to his side. "What do you want?"

"I'm worried about you," his unwanted companion huffed, rushing to keep up.

Heero paused, looking intently up at the much taller man. "Worried… About me?"

Vash nodded, grateful for the chance to catch his breath. "Yeah."

"Don't." The dark-haired man spun on his heel, resuming his rapid progression to street level. Vash filled his lungs with the stale tunnel air, and sprinted after him once again.

"But Heero, we're supposed to be friends. Why…"

Heero froze at the base of the final set of steps, turning quickly to chastise his unwelcome company. "Stop saying that word. It's starting to irritate me."

"What, Heero?" Vash questioned.

"No," the president spat. "Friends."

"But what's wrong with friends, boss?" Vash asked. "They're there to cheer you up – to celebrate your joys and share your pain," the tester said, counting an invisible list on his fingers.

Heero side-stepped his business partner and began his ascent into the night. "Hn."

Vash rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around his midsection in order to make sure the kitty stayed warm as he braced himself against the merciless winter wind. "You can't go your entire life without needing someone, Heero."

The other man lobbed a frosty reply over his shoulder. "Yes, I can."

"I see," Vash shrugged. "Well, I'm glad you are so much better than the rest of us. For my part, I don't want to be alone. I want to have a wife and kids someday – maybe a dog or a fish to play with Kitty."

Heero snorted.

"Mock it if you must, but it's what I want out of life, Heero. I never had a family. Rem was all I knew, and she was just my foster mother who took care of me before she got too sick. Then I had to fight not to be taken away before she died. She had spent all that time taking care of me, and I wanted to do the same for her, you know? I thought it was…right."

"I remember, Vash." Heero nodded, stopping at the edge of an icy crosswalk, waiting for the light to change.

"I know you do," his friend continued, painful emotion ebbing out in his words. "And I'm sure you still think me the world's biggest sap for breaking down into tears that night at your uncle's house, but even though you were all there, I was alone. I don't like that feeling, Heero. I don't ever want to have it again." His confession was met with urban silence – not quite noiseless but without the speaking voice of his companion.

"What about you, Heero?" Vash wondered as he and the man beside him fell into a slower gait. They walked on beneath the glimmering city lights, shivering under the flood bright florescence. "What do you want out of life?

"I…don't guess I know." He hesitated. "Respect, mostly."

"Ah, but with respect comes love," Vash observed with a knowing smile, glancing down to his stoic friend.

"Does it, now?" Heero grunted, staring straight ahead.

"Uh-huh. I don't suppose you've ever been in love."

Heero snorted again.

Vash's smile grew wider, fond memories playing on the edge of his mind. "It's a wonderful thing."

The programmer raised a dark eyebrow. "Yes, but apparently not a permanent thing seeing how many times you've been in love."

"Heero, I wasn't in love with all those women," Vash admitted with a shake of his head. "I know I pretend, but I'm really still just searching for the right one."

"I'm sure," Heero mocked.

"I'm serious," Vash insisted.

"Fine. Whatever," Heero sighed. He threw up his hands and turned his eyes to the starless sky. "Did you just come out here to bore me to death with your personal problems before the hypothermia sets in, or did you have a point?"

Vash crossed his arms and glared down at his business partner. "No, I came to tell you that no matter when she comes along – the right girl, the one I want to spend my life with – not you or this pact or anything else will be enough to sway me. I wanted you to know that love is worth more, friends are worth more to me than the business."

"Hn."

"Call me a sap – call me anything you wish, but I know who I am and what I want. Can you say the same?" 

The only answer was the sound of passing cars and the howling of the icy wind in the space between the two men. Vash gave a slow nod to the silent man beside him. "That's what I thought. Maybe you should think about that instead of passing judgment on everyone else. I'm going to go get us a cab, I'm freezing."

Heero blinked against the biting chill, huddling up against the front of the nearest building while he watched his longtime friend finally wave down a taxi. Vash opened the door, gesturing for him come over. Heero pulled up the collar of his coat, rushing towards the warmth of the car and Vash's bright, forgiving smile.

_I envy you; your humanity, your emotions. But I'm not you. I can't ever be you._

* * * * * *

"She hates me." Van paced the length of his room long after the others had retired for the night, his tired eyes straining through the darkened stillness of the apartment as he recalled the evening's events. "Why did I have to be such a jerk? Now she thinks I'm self centered idiot that believes the world revolves around me. But I don't – well, not really." He stopped for a moment, giving the carpet a much needed break, and sank down on the edge of his mattress. The marketing exec buried his face in his hands.

"Why does it bother me what she thinks of me?" 

_It's for the business. He repeated those words like a mantra, silently willing his mind to believe what he was telling it. But he knew it wasn't the truth. Images of Hitomi flashed through his brain: the way she looked standing in the moonlight, the way she smiled at him, the sound of her laugh…_

"Uggggghhh…. I can't like her, or I'm doomed. Just because she's beautiful and intelligent doesn't mean… I can't. It's not worth losing my share of the company over a girl. Man, I'm getting to be as bad as Vash." He flopped backward onto the bed and studied the cracks in the ancient plaster ceiling. 

"But I can change her mind….I could see her tomorrow, ask some questions about the cost analysis report, and make her see I'm not usually such a jerk. There's no harm in that, right?" He slung an arm over his face to block out the last traces of light in the mostly dimmed room. "It'll just be a business meeting…."

* * * * * *

"She's so…different from any other woman I've ever met. She acts tough, but wounds so easily. I hope she didn't let Van really get to her – she's so sensitive." Quatre's brow furrowed as he lay sprawled on top of the covers. His feet were propped up where his head should have been resting so that he could stare out at the twinkling midnight sky. 

"Perhaps I could arrange to meet with her tomorrow – Heero wouldn't have to know anything but that I'm going to discuss the contract – just to check on her. Make sure she's okay." The CFO reasoned when he finally closed his eyes. "It's only right, I think. No matter what Heero says."

* * * * * *

"She's a beautiful woman. They look good together, I think. But he'll have to get his head out of his ass long enough to realize he's in love with her before she'll admit to anything," Vash whispered to the purring bundle of fur perched on his chest. "She cares for him, that much is clear. She's definitely nothing like those women that usually hang around Heero and Van, just trying to get into their bank accounts. But I wonder what her story is. Everyone has one…Mine's that I never had any parents. Van's were never there, and Quatre's were usually lost in a crowd of sisters. That's why we are the way we are," Vash yawned, bringing a heavy comforter up under his chin and moving Kitty to the pillow beside him. "But why does she walk around with pain so evident in even her brightest smile?"

* * * * * *

_"I'm sure I can find some time to give a tour for a friend." _

A friend. Of course he didn't know what he was expecting her to say, but calling him a friend for some reason irked him, especially when she hugged and kissed Vash at the end of the night. 

"Why does it bother me? What do I want her to say? It doesn't matter if she does care for me as more than a friend; I can't return the feeling. My company, my whole life would go down the drain, and I'm not willing to lose everything for a woman. I've worked too hard to be swayed by a pretty face – even one with soft blue eyes and a sharp tongue." He rolled over to face the wall, trying to focus his mind on sleep. But noooooo, his brain wanted to think about her, about how he almost kissed her and how he wasn't going to see her tomorrow unless he could think of a reason….

"We didn't get much work done. I've wasted a lot of her time, or at least, my partners did tonight. It'd probably be better if we could sit down before the meeting on Friday and iron everything out. Then she could just present it to them and we wouldn't be prone to a repeat of tonight's incidents. I'll stop by and see if she's busy for lunch…."

* * * * * *

Shuffling sounds were coming from the direction of the kitchen. The fridge door slammed and he heard footsteps move out into the hallway, followed by the distinct rustling of coats on the nearby rack. "Where ya goin?" Vash called out, blinking from amidst his cocoon on the sofa bed.

"Meeting," a well-dressed and cologne-doused Heero grunted, not bothering to look back as he shut the door to the apartment.

"Give Relena a kiss for me." _Or two or three. Vash grinned as he reclined into the pillows and slipped back into unconsciousness. But an hour later, he woke up when the springs in the mattress squeaked and groaned under the additional weight of Quatre sitting at the edge of the bed._

"Have you been over the contract?" The blond asked in his usual soft-spoken tone, seemingly recovered from the tension of the previous night.

Vash made a non-committal effort to sit up, only to slump back down again. "Uhhhhhhhh….no, not really, why?"

"I need to be ready for the meeting tomorrow," Quatre said, shuffling the paperwork in his hands, "but I have questions about some of the language. Did Heero go somewhere?"

"Yeah, he went to see Relena."  
Quatre's eyes widened. "Oh?"

"Said something about going over contract stuff I think," Vash yawned. "I was mostly asleep."

"Huh." The CFO breathed, straightening his shoulders after a moment. "Well, I figured I should go straight to the source, and well, they mentioned at dinner last night…."

"Go meet with Dorothy, Quatre," Vash interrupted. "I don't care."

"It's just about the contract – and to apologize for Van's behavior last night," Quatre explained, rising quickly to his feet. "I still feel bad about how he treated her."

"I'm sure she'd love to have a strictly professional visit from you. Why don't you take her some flowers for an apology?" Vash suggested, trying not to let his friend see the grin fighting to take over his features. "It'd make an excellent impression."

"Good idea," Quatre agreed, rushing towards the coats. "All right, well I'll get going then."

"Have fun," Vash said, suppressing a laugh from under the blankets. "I mean, get lots of work done."

"Okay. Bye."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Vash mumbled upon hearing the lock click in place, closing his eyes again.

_Or better yet, do something I would do. He curled up with Kitty and felt his eyelids slide shut._

"Vash! Where are Quatre and Heero?"

"Uhhhhhhh, they went to PCC to see Relena and Dorothy about the contract," the living room's main occupant mumbled, squinting at the man leaning over the top of the sofa bed.

"Without me?" Van complained, stepping to one side and glaring down at Vash. "Don't I count for anything?"

"Well, Heero went by himself, and Quatre left about an hour later," Vash confessed, fluffing a pillow. "They didn't go together," he said and reached his arms out in a wide stretch.

"Oh." Van paced the length of the room again, stopping to inspect the layer of dust on the television set. He turned back to the sound of Vash's voice coming from the mound of quilts on the sofa.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, I had questions on this cost-analysis report," Van answered, brandishing a handful of file folders. "So I wanted to arrange a meeting with someone over there myself."

"Wouldn't that be Hitomi's department?" Vash ventured with a hinted smirk, sifting Kitty out of cushions and tickling the cat under its chin. He sat up amidst the covers, staring at his friend, suddenly feeling very much like an evil villain from a James Bond film. And if Van was supposed to be 007, he was falling right into Vash's trap. 

"Hitomi's department?" Van repeated, drumming his fingers on the coffee table. "Oh, would it? I hadn't thought about it, but I guess you're right."

"Maybe you should bring her some flowers to apologize for your behavior last night," Vash offered, a mischievous gleam sparking in his just-opened eyes. 

Van whirled around, deep lines creasing just above his eyebrows. "My behavior? You and Heero were the embarrassing ones. I can't believe you brought the cat into the restaurant, and then you two going at it over dinner? It was…well, quite a spectacle, I thought."

Vash swallowed a smile, schooling his expression into one of mock irritation. "Then bring her some flowers to apologize for our behavior." He extracted himself from the comforter and headed for the kitchen with Kitty tucked under one arm. "I'll pay you back – tell her they're from me... and Kitty."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Van called to his roommate's back as the pajama-clad man mined the fridge for some breakfast. "I'm the marketing guy after all – smoothing things over with our clients is my specialty."

"Is that before you call them she-devils or after?" Vash teased, pouring a saucer of milk for the smaller of his companions.

Van leveled another glare at his friend. 

"Hey, go have your meeting with Hitomi," the tester smiled, handing his friend a glass of orange juice. "Shaken, not stirred," he nodded, pointing to the cup.

Van looked down at the juice. "What the hell are you talking about?" he mumbled.

"Nevermind…" Vash murmured with a shake of his tousled head, momentarily having a mental debate over who had been the best Bond actor. "Anyways, the boss, I know, needs to have the right numbers on that report, so get going already. And do whatever you have to, to make sure we're on good terms with their marketing guy, er, girl, k?"

_Roger Moore or Sean Connery?_

"All right," Van agreed, drawing in a deep breath and fishing his gloves out of his coat pockets before reaching out for the doorknob. "I guess our work is never done, eh, Vash?"

Blond spikes peeked up from over the re-opened fridge. "Nope. Bye."

"Later." With a sharp and final slam of the door, the fourth officer found himself alone at last.

"Don't forget to enjoy the view while you're groveling on your knees. Maybe you'll get lucky and she'll be wearing a thong like that reporter-girl." Vash chuckled to his partner's departing footfalls, watching as Kitty blissfully licked milk droplets from his paws on the countertop. "Definitely Sean Connery, don't you think, Kitty?"

_I have the apartment to myself while my friends are busy working on their part of breaking the pact. May all their ladies be very…understanding, indeed._

"Meow."

* * * * * *

Downtown NYC

The chill of the new day was not as unforgiving as he anticipated it to be, the long-lost sun bathing his skin in unexpected warmth when he emerged from the downtown subway entrance. The towering buildings of New York City's business district gleamed in the crisp, wintry daylight, causing the young software exec to pause ever so briefly to admire the spectacle. He moved along, picking up his pace once again as the PCC offices came into view. The sun, he noticed, seemed to shine just a little brighter over where she was.

"Is Miss Peacecraft in?"

A girl with shoulder length dark brown hair turned glazed blue eyes up from the monitor on her computer, regarding the visitor from across her desk. A nameplate situated just to the left of center read Sakura Tomoe. "She's in a meeting, Mr…."

"Yuy."

"Oh, Mr. Heero Yuy?" The young secretary inquired and rose quickly from her chair.

"That's right," Heero affirmed, loosening his scarf and unbuttoning his coat. "Will you please tell her-"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Yuy, but as I said, she's in a meeting. Is there a message – or you can have seat if you'd like to wait. Miss Peacecraft asked not to be interrupted unless it was-"

He stepped around her desk and made for the door. Sakura darted out, giving chase as fast as her heeled shoes would allow.

"You can't go in there…."

He jerked open the wooden barriers and found her hunched over her desk. One hand supported the weight of her forehead on her elbow as strands of gold escaped the barrette positioned high on the crown of her head. Dorothy sat comfortably atop the plush couch, filing her fingernails. Hitomi scribbled as Relena continued to speak. 

"Are you getting all this, Dorothy?" The blond VP glanced up at the corporate attorney.

"Of course, Miss Relena," Dorothy replied, stretching out a hand in order to better scrutinize her manicuring job.

"I don't think she is," Heero cut in, making his way towards the desk as three sets of eyes followed him. "She appears to be more interested in her fingertips."

"I can take mental notes with the best of them, Mr. Yuy, I assure you," Dorothy said, gracefully sliding off her place on the sofa. "I have all but a photographic memory."

Relena rested a cheek in her upturned hand, heaving a deep sigh. "It would make me feel better if you'd at least pretend, Dorothy. But anyway… What brings you here, Mr. Yuy?"

"Miss Peacecraft, I'm sorry…" Sakura breathed, resting against the doorframe. 

Relena waved her hand. "It's fine. Could you please see that these get faxed to my brother at his hotel," she asked, shuffling a few papers across her desk. "Thank you, Sakura," Relena smiled, before turning to address the other women in the room. "Now Dorothy, Hitomi, if you would…"

"We're gone." Dorothy said with a toss of her blond hair, smirking at Heero on her way out. Hitomi hastily gathered her unsteady pillar of file folders and notebooks and also headed for the door.

"Call me later," she whispered to her friend, stealing a quick glance at the GLLC President before she moved into the hallway.

"Okay." Relena smiled, well aware of what her friends were thinking when her office door closed with a soft click and she found herself alone with Heero. His eyes were locked on her while he sauntered towards her desk.

"So I am back to being Mr. Yuy am I? It must be hard to lose your mind at so young an age."

"This is unexpected," Relena said, feeling the color creeping into her cheeks at Heero's approach. "Tell me you didn't come all the way across town to pay me back my compliment."

Her visitor shook his head, raising his hands out of his coat pockets only to push the fabric back and bury them along the sides of his dress slacks. "No. I wanted to apologize for last night, and see if we couldn't get some work done over lunch. I have a little time this afternoon."

"So I see," Relena said, tilting her head and searching out her desk calendar. "Well, I was supposed to have lunch with my brother, but I could reschedule with him for dinner tonight, if this is important."

Heero leaned over the wooden barrier between them, leveling his face just inches from her own. "This is of the utmost of importance, Miss Peacecraft." The floral scent of her perfume caressed his senses, and he closed his eyes, feeling the soft heat of their closeness. He seemed to be falling, his body giving in to a world where only she existed. Trembling fingers reached out, grazing the silky cascade of hair that rested on her shoulders. "Relena, I…"

"Miss Peacecraft?"

Sakura's voice crackled over the intercom, the static hitting Heero like a fist to the jaw, snapping him back from a pleasant oblivion.

"Y-yes, what is it, Sakura?" Relena stammered, lowering her eyes and giving her full attention to the small speaker.

"Mr. Peacecraft for you on line one."

"Thank you, Sakura," Relena said, resting her hand on the receiver. "Well, he saved me a phone call at any rate. I swear Milliardo has a sixth sense about when I'm about to bail out on one of our lunches."

"Just tell him it's for your most important software provider," Heero instructed. 

"Again with the arrogance?" The young woman chided. "How different you are in your emails. But I'll tell him lunch is off. Did you have anyplace in mind? Are you hungry for anything special?"

Heero pressed his lips together, trying not to concentrate on the sheer material of her blouse and the way it seemed to hug her chest in all the right… "I'm still a tourist, remember?" he blurted out, searching the window behind her for a focal point. "But someplace fairly quiet with plenty of room to work would be ideal."

"Hmmm…" Relena mumbled, tapping her chin with a well-manicured finger. "We just have mostly small take-out places and delis around here. I'm afraid all I have to offer is my office. We could order something in…"

Heero's mind surged. _Alone.__ With her – in this office… A faint smile crept across his lips at the thought, but it was soon quashed by the heavy anvil of guilt – with the word "pact" clearly written on the side._

"No, I think I'd like to be outside," Heero said, as if speaking the words out loud would convince him as well. "It's a bit warmer today."

"Forty-three degrees," Relena observed. "Oh yes, a regular heat wave."

"Not quite," Heero grumbled.

"Well, if you don't mind a bit of a walk, there's a nice Chinese food place. It's not quiet and it's usually crowded, but we could get it to go or eat quickly and then come back to my office to work."

GLLC's president drew in a strained breath, telling himself that they could discuss business on the way, and that food would be enough of a distraction from…

"Heero?" He watched her lips as they spoke his name, marveling at their perfect shape. "Heero, is Chinese food ok?"

His eyes shot up. "Yeah."

"Oh good. Alright, well would you mind waiting outside for a minute? I've kept Milliardo on hold for long enough." Relena punched another button before picking up the phone. "Sakura , will you please get Mr. Yuy some coffee while he…."

"I'll be fine," Heero spoke up, running a hand through his hair and striding in the direction of the lobby.

"All right," Relena called out. "I'll be just one moment."

* * * * *

Quatre heard his stomach growl loudly, and he cringed, cursing himself for not grabbing a bite to eat and taking far too long to pick out the flowers. He hoped that Dorothy would like lilies. Their pungent and sweet perfume filled the small space of the elevator car before he stepped out onto PCC's upper floors, meeting with the familiar odors of printer ink and freshly cleaned office carpets. 

He felt the color flood his face as he approached the receptionist desk, peering over the massive bouquet "Um, pardon me, miss. I'm here to see Dorothy Catalonia. Is she in?"

The young woman's eyes grew large at the huge arrangement of pink and white flowers. "I'll be happy to page her, sir."

"Thank you." 

"Whom shall I say is here?"

"Um, Quatre Winner. From GLLC, please," he answered in a hushed voice.

Quatre ventured over to a row of paintings hanging on a nearby wall, attempting to calm his nerves and quiet his stomach, not to mention distract himself from the awkwardness of having the secretary disturb Dorothy. _Maybe she's busy, the blond told himself, staring blankly at a print of Monet's "Waterlilies." __She could be in a meeting, and I'd just be bothering her. I shouldn't have come without calling first, I should probably just leave the flowers with a nice note and…_

"Well, well, well, Mr. Winner. I wouldn't have expected to see you today. Not that it's an unpleasant turn of events."

Her voice flowed through the air, grabbing him and refusing to let go. Quatre felt his body twist, seeking out the welcome sight of her long blond hair and crystal-like blue eyes. "Good afternoon, Miss Dorothy." 

"Do you always look at this painting close up?" She questioned, stopping at his side and pointing a slender finger at the frame behind him.

Quatre took in a startled breath, realizing that she'd spoken to him and he hadn't made an effort to comprehend one single word. He'd been too busy staring. "What's that?" 

"Monet," Dorothy said. "The Impressionists make much more sense from a distance."

She took hold of Quatre's shirtsleeve and guided him away from the wall. "There. Now, can you see the flowers? You can see the use of light, on the water in the pond…"

"Yes… yes, of course," the CFO agreed, studying the painting for an instant before turning his attention to the warmth of Dorothy's hand still resting on his arm. He frowned as she moved away, releasing her grasp far too soon.

"Have you studied art, then, Miss Dorothy?"

"Oh, it was quite a while ago, back in college," the attorney answered, leading the visitor down the hall towards her office. "It was my passion – right behind law, that is."

Quatre swallowed hard. "Well, if I had gone to college, I think I would have studied art, too. I always loved to go to the museums in Seattle. One of my sisters majored in modern art at the University of Washington, but I've always been partial to works prior to the 1950's."

She led him into her expansive corner office, weaving her way through neatly piled stacks of files, cabinets, cardboard boxes and sparse, simplistic furnishings.

"Please excuse the mess. I'm in the process of redecorating. I find a change is refreshing every so often. So, did you have some questions about the contract?" She stepped towards the window and opened the blinds, allowing the afternoon sun to fill the dim room. 

"Yes actually," Quatre answered, searching out a chair in the sea of disarray to relieve his tired legs. "I wanted to go over some of the language, just to be sure we're all on the same page here. I know Heero has enough to worry about with the changes to Z/OS, and the others don't have the time."

"Certainly," Dorothy smiled, retrieving a nearby folder and producing her own copy of the contract. "Was there a specific clause you needed clarification on, or shall we just go over the whole thing in general? Those flowers are really lovely, by the way. Lilies are one of my favorites."

A shy smile overtook the young man's face. "It makes me happy to hear you say that, Miss Dorothy," Quatre said. He rose to his feet holding the monstrous bouquet in his outstretched arms. "I wanted to bring them for, well, I wanted to… I'm sorry for the way Van acted, I'm sorry for all of us, Miss Dorothy. And I'm just… I wanted to say…. Well, I'm awfully glad I got the chance to meet you."

"Why, Mr. Winner…" Dorothy breathed, moving closer to accept the gift he offered.

The young man grinned again, lowering his bashful countenance. Quatre – please," He whispered. 

The feathery touch of a feminine hand grazed his burning cheek, and as he looked up, a soft gust of her breath brushed the same spot.

"M-miss Dorothy?"

"Quatre…"

* * * * *

Lion's Gate Apartments

"And breathe in… hold that position, keep your arms out and your stomach flat. Now raise your right leg as high is it will go and lean forward…"

"Dang it, Kitty. This yoga stuff is hard. But at least I have some peace and quiet, not that there's really anything to do if I don't feel like going out… Oof!" Vash toppled to the floor, tangled in his own limbs. He cocked his head to one side, studying the trio of well-toned and very limber blond women on the screen. "I don't know how those girls can do that, but I have to say, I am enjoying the tights... Has it been three years yet?"

"That's excellent balance! Keep that leg straight – I'm so proud of you!" the perky instructor chirped from the television. "Now exhale…" Vash grimaced. 

"It didn't hurt to breathe when I got up this morning. Reporter girl would get a kick out of this, she loves to see me in pain," he sputtered, attempting to roll over when something on the floor caught his eye. "Hey, what do we have here?" Vash finally managed to free an aching arm and snag the large manila folder sitting by the coffee table.

"I think this is Van's report thing. He might need this…"

With a heavy sigh, the lanky man heaved his tall figure to a standing position and grabbed his bright red coat. "Looks like I'm headed downtown afterall. I'll pick you up some kitten chow on the way home." He swung the door open, tentatively stepping out into the drafty hallway with a shudder. "Gee, I hope the elevator's working…"

* * * * * *

PCC Tower

The twelfth floor was a maze. The only thing missing was a piece of cheese, for presumably, he was the misplaced rodent scurrying through the meandering halls. There wasn't a receptionist desk to be found, just a myriad of cubicles placed in long, facing rows. How anyone could work under such conditions he had no idea. But then again, it was what their own company's development department looked like as well. 

A door just up the hall opened and several nicely suited people trickled out. One of them had a familiar build and a cute bob of light brown hair.

"Miss Kanzaki? Hitomi?"

"Van?" Hitomi gave him a welcoming grin as she stepped out of the conference room, nodding politely to the other colleagues that filed passed her. "What brings you down here? I wasn't expecting to see you until tomorrow's – oh! Are those for me?"

Van nodded, handing over a vase full of vibrant colored blossoms. "I thought they might brighten up your office. I've always like Birds of Paradise, my mom used to grow them in her greenhouse when I was a kid. Even when it was raining all the time out in Seattle, I would go out to look at them and they would cheer me up…" his smile faded when he noticed her bewildered expression. "I'm talking too much, aren't I? I didn't mean-"

"No, Van! No, it's not that at all," Hitomi gasped, tenderly cradling one of the silky blooms in her palm. "It's just that…" she took a step forward, the sunlight from a nearby window dazzling in her pale green eyes.

"Yes?" Van questioned, mesmerized by her every tiny movement. He could have sworn that he noticed something new about Hitomi every time he looked at her. This time it was the way her lips parted softly over her pearly white teeth when she was smiling – at him.

"…this is the nicest surprise I've had in a long time. It was very sweet and thoughtful of you, Van. Thank you." 

"You're welcome."

A grin lingered over her features as she stood before him, hugging the vase tightly to her chest and peering around its contents. Van finally blinked, his mind snapping into motion.

"Um… are you free for lunch?" he asked, breaking the awkward silence that had begun to settle between them.

Hitomi seemed equally distracted. "Lunch…" she repeated, trailing off until the meaning of the word clicked and her face suddenly illuminated. "Oh, Van, I'm sorry – I wish I could. I have another meeting in twenty minutes and I really must get some documents ready. Perhaps another time?"

Van's mouth twisted into a thin, disappointed line. "Sure," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Another time."

"Well, you could walk me to my office, right now," Hitomi beamed, "It's pretty far down the hallway, I'm sure we'll be able to figure something out by then."

"Oh… sure," Van agreed, following the account exec through the corridor. Hitomi glanced over her shoulder.

"So, did you have a question for me about the contract? I'm sure you didn't come all the way down here just to bring me flowers."

"Well, actually, I would have… I mean, I do have some things I'd like to talk to you about," Van recovered, quickening his pace so that he walked right beside her. Hitomi tilted her head as if lost in thought.

"Hmm… The rest of the week is pretty jammed up for me, but if we don't get to cover all your concerns in our meeting tomorrow, I have some time on Saturday."

"Saturday…" Van nodded, trying to control the smirk dancing on his lips. "I think I can find some time – it's for the contract, after all."

* * * * * *

"Ooooh, and they even have nice elevator music. I knew I liked Relena," Vash mumbled to himself while he snapped his fingers and rode towards the executive offices in PCC tower. "I hope Van didn't turn around and go home to look for this," the tester thought, watching the glowing numbers above the doors. 

A chime sounded when he had reached his destination, and Vash waited for the polished doors to part before him. He leapt out into the hallway, intent on figuring out how to navigate the labyrinth of corridors when he caught sight of a familiar…

"Quatre?"

"V-vash? What are you doing down here? Did you have a meeting too?"

"No," Vash answered with a shake of his head, letting his lip curl upwards when he gave his friend a lopsided glance.

"What is it?" Quatre asked. "Is everything ok?"

"I'd say so," Vash smiled. "But you got a little something on your cheek there, my friend."

"I do?" Quatre raised a hand to his face, and brought a red, lipstick-tinged finger in front of his widening eyes. His jaw slackened, and his mouth attempted to move, but his voice appeared to be refusing to cooperate.

"Here's a bathroom," Vash observed, gesturing towards a door across the hall. "Maybe you want to take care of that."

"I can explain! It wasn't – Miss Dorothy just…"

"I'll be right out here," Vash said, giving his friend a little shove in the opposite direction. Quatre nodded dumbly and disappeared behind the men's room door.

Vash allowed himself a satisfied chuckle._ Hmmm… maybe we can have this pact thing wrapped up by the end of the month! _

His mind was jarred from its thoughts at the sound of another voice traveling through the floor of offices.

"It was good to see you, Hitomi. I'll be looking forward to this weekend."

"Me too, Van. Good afternoon. Thank you so much for the flowers."

The marketing VP rounded the corner, scuffling passed the restroom and moving towards the elevators. "Oh, hey, Vash." The dark-haired man called out absently over his shoulder. He walked on, but after a few more paces, Van froze and abruptly snapped his head around, calling out his friend's name. "Vash!"

"Hey, Van. " The other man answered. "Good thing I found you, you walked out without the…"

"Van?" Quatre gulped, emerging from the washroom still swabbing his dampened face with a paper towel. Van pushed his dark hair back and trudged into the nearest waiting elevator.

"Oh, hi ,Quatre. Vash said you'd be here," Van said, greeting his friend with a tight-lipped expression, his tone sounding forced and tense. "You guys could have at least mentioned you had meetings down here today. I had some questions, too."

"Well, I just thought of some things this morning. You were still asleep and I… is it gone, Vash?" The shorter blond whispered, turning towards his roommate.

Vash scrutinized his business partner's pale skin. "You're good to go, there, friend." He reached out and tapped the lighted button that would take them to the ground floor.

"What are you two talking about?" Van pressed. "Were there any problems with the contract on your end, Quatre?"

"Uh… no – everything looked just fine," Quatre said with a quaking voice. "Were you meeting with Miss Hitomi about their marketing figures?"

Van bit his lip; his brown eyes darted quickly around the small room while it began its descent, lightly jolting its passengers. "Yes… All in all I'd say we had an extremely productive meeting. Good thing I'd gotten that report done. She found it very helpful."

"Oh. That's good to hear," Quatre commented.

Vash raised an eyebrow at Van and tightened his grip on the file between his fingers, snickering inwardly at his pair of fellow associates. _I wonder how Heero's doing? __His will be the toughest ship to sink, __but if anyone can do it, that Miss Relena can. Vash mused. __I think Van and Quatre are already well on their way… __Maybe we'll even be done with this by the end of the week. But, first things first. The spikey-haired blond turned to his now-silent associates. _

"Hey, did you guys eat yet? I'm starved!"

* * * * *

"So, this part here talks about the proposed changes," Heero said, highlighting a short paragraph on the sheet and handing it to Relena. "But what changes are being proposed?"

"It's in addendum C which was forwarded to your office prior to our meeting," Relena remembered. "You didn't receive it?"

Heero held up empty hands. "I am addendum C-less."

"Hmmmm." She tapped her pen on the edge of the desk. "Well, I'm sure I have another copy somewhere, but it might not be the most up-to-date. Since then, some functionality was added to the software application, so how about I bring along a new copy to tomorrow's meeting?"

"That'll work," Heero agreed, easing himself out of the chair he'd occupied for most of the afternoon.

"Is there anything else? Relena asked, giving Heero an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry, but I have an appointment scheduled in ten minutes. We'll have to make it another time."

Heero grabbed his coat. "No, I don't suppose there is… but I'll probably think of something."

"Well, if you do think of anything," Relena offered, shuffling a stack of papers off to the side, "you have my cell phone number?"

"Yeah."

"Have a good evening, Heero. I'll see you tomorrow."

He nodded and measured his steps out of the office. He trudged all the way to the elevator door before he turned and glanced behind him. He could see her outline reflected on the glass through the blinds, cast by the light of the setting sun behind the window that looked out into the city. He watched her for a moment as she slumped over her desk, a pen illuminated in her hand as it danced over the page. 

He frowned. Maybe friends would be a good thing, after all. He'd managed to control himself for the remainder of the afternoon, keeping his mind focused on work. Once the contract issues were resolved, they could spend the next three years getting to know each other. And then, maybe if things still felt…right, they could pursue something else. She was busy, and didn't seem to be in a hurry to latch on to anyone. He could see her in between her hectic work schedule and his school one – on a purely platonic level, of course. 

_But what if…_

He felt his chest tighten at the thought of her being with someone else. He couldn't explain it, really, he just….

He had never had a relationship – it wasn't that he was completely set against the idea of dating; it was just that the women he met were so…timid, so easily swayed, so false. She wasn't. And she was the only one he had ever met that caused some intangible thing to crawl inside his head and confuse his brain, tie his tongue and steal breathable air from the room as soon as she entered it. 

The elevator sang behind him, and he moved to board. He was so intent on his thoughts, it wasn't until he was on the car that he realized his three partners were there as well. Heero turned his head, staring blankly at the familiar faces until his eyes locked with a pair of friendly green ones. "Vash?"

The software tester raised his hand in a casual gesture. "Hey boss."

Heero blinked. "But.. why are you… Van? Quatre?"

Van opened his mouth, but his explanation seemed to lodge in his throat. Quatre pursed his lips, throwing a pleading glance at the tallest member of the group. Vash took a deep breath and turned back to Heero.

"Well, you see, boss, it's like this. I was here delivering a report to Van, who had a meeting in the marketing department just now. And it was the funniest thing, because we also ran into Quatre, who was here having a meeting with the legal people." Vash plastered on a toothy grin, preparing for the worst while his other two partners simply gawked.

Heero straightened his collar and spun back around to face the polished brass doors. "Huh. It's good to see you all taking your jobs seriously. You've been acting like we're in New York on vacation."

Vash peeped over the rim of his yellow glasses. _Is this the same guy? Hmmmm, I'd better check him for lipstick, too. No, she wouldn't have kissed him…yet. _

"We, uh, just wanted to get this all taken care of," Quatre spoke up, his voice hollow and shaky in the elevator's cramped space, "so we could start classes on Monday with no Dorothy…uh, I mean, no distractions." 

Vash's eyes widened at their shy, blond companion. _Not like that vixen, Dorothy. __Quatre__ looks like a tomato. The CFO was blushing a furious shade of red - almost as red as the lipstick that had marked his cheek._

The spikey-haired partner also noted that Heero didn't seem to notice a thing was up – the edgy silence was completely lost on the young President. 

_I just wish I knew what was going on in that head of his. _

The elevator came to a halt and opened to allow the four friends to exit. Vash caught Van's arm, holding him behind.

"Vash? What…?" He stopped in mid phrase as his friend thrust a handful of papers at him.

"Here's the report you were working on."

Van took the stack of printouts and shoved them under his arm. "Oh, thanks. What'd I do, drop it?"

Vash simply smiled as he brushed passed his friend. "Nope. You left it back at the apartment."


	8. 

Love's Labours Lost

By Stella and the Black Rose

AN: 

We hope you will enjoy the latest chapter – it is Heero and Relena's big scene. Hurray! 1xR romance!!! The next chapter (chapter 8) will cover the NOT-A-DATES ^___~ of the other 3 couples (YAY for VashxMeryl, VanxHitomi and QuatrexDorothy!) and also some hints to a very important piece later on. Thanks for staying with us!  So, shoo, go read! Thank you so much for your time and readership. Much love, Rose and Stella

Disclaimer: We do not own the show or the characters. And sadly, as much as we would like to, we make no money whatsoever on these fanfics, we do this out of sheer love of the characters, love of writing, and a deeply rooted sado-mascochism complex that can be traced back to our early childhoods…. In other words, Bandai, Pioneer, you'd only get debt if you sued us. **bows humbly** We're not worthy….

*****************************************************************************************************************************************

Chapter 7

Quatre watched Vash fight with the apartment door's often temperamental lock. Gloved hands jiggled the brass fitting, pounding on it and finally giving it a well-timed thump. 

"There's a trick to it," the tall blond grinned over his shoulder at the CFO while the battered door swung open. Four weary friends filed into the darkened living room, groaning as they dragged what seemed like half the contents of the Columbia University bookstore behind them. Quatre was convinced that the textbooks for his art class alone weighed more than he did, especially after having carried them for five blocks through the freezing winter night. 

"Um guys?" Vash's heavy footsteps ceased as he called out from the living room. 

"What is it?" Van snapped, dropping his bag with a resounding bang on the hardwood floor. "Oh geez, it's fricking cold in here!"

"Who turned the heater off?" Vash huffed misty words into the air. Quatre's eyes darted from one roommate to the other, and he shivered as the chill crawled through his opened coat and wrapped itself around his chest. He peered at the small, round device on the wall. "The thermostat says the heater's on." 

"Then it's a liar." Van glared at him like he was in cahoots with the darn thing. 

"I was just telling you what it said. No one turned it off, so it must be out."

Heero pulled his gloves off and began digging through one of the kitchen drawers. "The rental agreement's in here somewhere, I'll call the emergency repair number."

Quatre flipped the switch on the thermostat and turned the temperature up. It didn't kick on. He sighed and re-entered the kitchen. _At least I can turn the kettle on and make tea to help keep us warm._

Vash sauntered up to the counter with the purring black kitten in hand. "Brrrrr. It's fr-fr-freezing in here. I think poor Kitty would have been warmer on the street afterall. Doesn't this excellent facility have a fireplace?" Quatre shook his head as he continued filling the kettle with tap water and glanced over at Heero. This was not the time to push the software exec.

Heero picked up the phone, his eyes dangerously flashing towards his roommate before turning back to the paper in front of him. "No."

"Aw man!"Vash complained, retreating back to the living room and swaddling himself from head to toe in one of his blankets. The television came to life at the same time Quatre turned on the burner under the kettle. He stuck out his gloved hands and tried to warm them over the stove. _Mmmmmmm__, heat._

"The repair man will be here in an hour." Heero's voice interrupted his thoughts with the unpleasant announcement. Quatre stood back and steeled himself for the onslaught.

"An hour?" Vash cried from the couch. "We'll be ice cubes by then." 

The CFO cringed, and pulled himself away from the stove in order to head off further griping. He snatched an armful of quilts from the hall closet and distributed them to his friends. 

"There isn't anything else we can do, Vash, except just try to keep warm."

"I can't believe this," Van shouted, staring out the window. Quatre followed his gaze and glimpsed a bank sign's digital thermometer. It flashed between "18° F" and "-8°C" as if taunting all those unfortunate enough to feel the winter's chilly effect. He groaned inwardly. _What a time for the heat to go out._

"Keep your coat on and get under a blanket. Take a nap and by the time you wake up in the morning, the heat will be back on." Heero's voice was as cold as the air inside the apartment as he reprimanded the marketing VP in his most condescending tone. Quatre drew in a sharp breath. Van had been in a mood all night, and Heero's latest insensitivity was not going to go over well at all. The software exec opened his laptop and balanced it on the table in front of him. Remembering the kettle he was still waiting on, Quatre retreated towards the kitchen.

"Riiiight." Van's voice dripped heavy caramel sarcasm that screamed confrontation. Quatre shut his eyes and leaned back against the cupboard. He didn't like to witness these sorts of disagreements. _Breathe in, breathe out. You're not involved, so just relax._

"See, usually, when it's eighteen degrees outside, they tell you NOT to fall asleep because that's how you freeze to death."

"Van, you're not going to freeze to death," Heero muttered, having not bothered to look up from the laptop screen. He punched a couple of buttons and seemed to be ignoring everyone around him.

"That's what you think!" The marketing VP yelled. Quatre's eyes snapped open and he felt his heart race, but he knew he was powerless to stop what amounted to a train wreck about to happen in their new living room. Both of them were too damn stubborn for their own good – neither one would back down until they had said more than they should.

Van paced back and forth like a caged tiger. His jaw was tight and his hands formed fists at his sides. 

Vash seemed to realize the intensity of the situation as well. Blond spikes turned from the tv screen. "Guys, this isn't worth…"

Van lunged towards Heero, and grabbed the laptop off the table to gain the President's undivided attention. There was a brief silence as the two glared at one another. 

"Stop being a child."

"Stop trying to be my father."

"Dammit, Van, you're not going to freeze to death in an hour."

"What do you know? You think you know everything. But I'm telling you, there's a reason why God invented heaters and I guarantee that without them, people would not be living on the sixteenth floor of a bare-assed apartment this close to the damn arctic! They'd all be down near the equator, living in mud huts and dancing naked, worried only about putting enough sunscreen on their privates so that it doesn't hurt when they pee!" He accentuated the statement by slamming the laptop down, which rocked the table's already less than steady surface.

"Van," Heero's eyes narrowed and he sat up completely straight in his chair. "Go to your room and freeze quietly. I have work to do."

"Sure thing, Dad," Van spat. He whirled around and snatched the comforter off of Vash before stomping off down the hall.

"Hey!" 

Heero sighed and handed the blond tester his blanket. "Here."

"Thanks."

The kettle whistled from the kitchen, and Quatre went to pour himself some well-deserved tea. _How are we going to make it three years? We can't get along for three days._

"Dang it, there's nothing on," Vash whined from his place on the sofa, pushing a button and plunging the room back into darkness. "I hate bowling and I've already seen this documentary on the mating habits of fruit bats - And I don't think I want to see it again. Kinky little critters… it's sad when fruit bats are getting more action than-"

"Vash, if you're staying up, can you let the repairman in or would you rather take my room while I stay up and wait?" Heero cut in.

"I'm kinda tired, boss," Vash yawned, "but I can wait if you want." 

"I'll stay up for a while," Quatre offered and took another sip of his tea. "Would anyone else care for some tea? I think we have some little packages of hot chocolate…"

"I might take you up on that if the repairman isn't here by midnight," Heero nodded. "But get some rest for now, I'll need your input for that meeting with PCC tomorrow. And Vash, just go ahead and take my room."

"Don't have to tell me twice!" the tester jumped to his feet, collecting his furry friend and making for the quiet destination of Heero's slightly more comfortable bed.

"Are you going to be alright, Heero?" Quatre asked. He handed his friend a cup of hot tea before starting off towards his own room.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Heero said between sips. "But tell Vash to keep that damn cat off my pillow."

* * * * * * Vash tossed from side to side, kicking at the twisted mess of covers around his feet. The cold air bit at his nose and froze every breath, and it was extremely difficult to get comfortable with his bulky coat on. Maybe something warm to drink would help. 

He wandered out into the hallway and followed the eerie glow emanating from the corner of the kitchen. 

"Hey, boss."

The rhythmic clacking of keys ceased for a moment as Heero's eyes turned from the screen. "I thought you were tired."

Vash fumbled for the tea kettle. "I guess I got a bit of a second wind."

"Hn."

"Did Quatre call it a night, too?" The taller blond questioned. His friend nodded and went back to typing. "And don't worry about Van," Vash went on. "He'll get over whatever has been his problem lately."

"Yeah."

Vash hunkered down at the table with a steaming mug and a rather sizable salmon sandwich. He chewed in silence, letting his green eyes drift to the stone-faced man across from him who seemed to be unaffected by his presence completely. The software tester slurped at his tea, wondering what his friend could be working on so diligently. Another report? No. Heero never waited until the last minute. He had those done and revised yesterday. Some coding? Wouldn't that fall under the 'no business clause' of the pact? 

Vash crunched the last of his snack, licking his fingers and still staring at Heero. Finally the answer slipped into his brain. The Boss must have received another e-mail from… "So, what's she like?"

"Who?" Heero barked. He sat up rigidly, the rickety kitchen chair creaking under his weight; Vash noticed that his business partner had stopped working and was looking right at him.

"Relena," Vash answered, concealing a smile. "I mean…I have to be prepared for our meeting tomorrow."

Heero drew in a haggard breath. "You met her."

"Yeah, I met her," Vash leaned across the table and pointed a long finger at his friend, "but I wanted to know your opinion of her."

"Why?"

The man in red reclined in his seat and propped his feet up on the table. He shrugged. "Just curious, I guess."

Heero shoved his chair back, flipping the laptop shut and scowling through the darkness. "Vash, I'm too tired to have to deal with this," 

The tester blinked. "Deal with what?"

"These questions."

"All I asked was your opinion of her."

"I don't have one," Heero growled and shot up from his seat. He stormed across the chilly room, charting a course for the couch. 

"Oh you do, too," Vash insisted. He grabbed his tea and followed his friend. "I'm not asking if you like her, in fact I hope you don't."

The other man dropped onto the sofa and switched on the light. "Why's that?" Heero fished a computer magazine out of the cushions and tore it open.

"Because she doesn't seem to be your type," Vash observed, letting his gaze drift over to study his friend's expression.

"And what exactly is my type?" Heero sniffed and turned another glossy page. Vash shot him a sly glance and tried to hide his smile.

"Grumpy. She's too cheerful. Polished. She's beautiful, but not fake," Vash reasoned out loud. "Assertive. She can hold her own, but she'd rather not be combative..."

"Are you done?" Heero frowned. The familiar ruthless glare settled over his features. Vash rolled his eyes.

"Oh, will you quit with that look? It stopped working on me in junior high. Please tell me you don't look at Relena like that. Oh, and did I mention she was beautiful?" Vash grinned.

"Yes. And you're completely wrong."

Vash nearly spit out his tea. "Boss, I think you need to have your eyes checked because if you don't think she's…"

"No," Heero corrected. "About my type. I don't like those kinds of women at all. Fake, manipulative, aggressive women are the ones I deal with all the time."

"Well," the tester said, drumming his fingers against the arm rest and thinking back to the young woman he'd met. "Relena doesn't seem like that at all."

Heero returned his attention to the article. "She's not."

"So," Vash continued, "if she's not the type of woman you despise, can I assume that she's someone that you could have a good opinion of, if you knew her better?"

The magazine slammed down on the end table. "Why are you pushing this?"

"Why can't you ever loosen up?" The lanky blond rose to his full height. Exasperated breaths formed a foggy trail behind him as he paced the living room. "What's wrong with saying you like her?" he asked, lowering his voice to a calmer tone. "That's not breaking the pact, Boss. I like her, I'll admit it. I like Hitomi, too. I'm not sure about Dorothy – her coat scared me. A lot. But still," Vash came to a halt and bent down, leveling his face with Heero's. "Are you going to take away my share of the company because I said I like Relena and Hitomi?"

Heero crossed his arms and bowed his head under Vash's stare, like a child being lectured by a parent. "No," the president muttered.

The spikey-haired man squared his shoulders and let out a long breath. "Okay then."

Heero continued to regard the floor. "Hn."

"It's okay to like the girls, Boss."

"Hn."

The taller man cast his eyes heavenward. "I don't know why I bother." He turned and took a step towards the kitchen.

"I like her. She's….different."

The words hit him like a surprise blow to the back. Vash spun around, letting his gaze wander the room to make sure no one else was speaking to him. He saw only Heero. Heaving his slackened jaw into a smile, Vash nodded. "Yeah, she seems like she's pretty smart."

"Very smart," Heero agreed.

"She's funny."

The man on the couch snorted. "In a sarcastic way."

"Of course," the tester chuckled. "See, that wasn't so hard."

"Hn."

Vash deposited his mug in the sink, and took another pitiful glance at the thermostat. "Well, Dad, if you're going to wait up for the repairman, I'm going to hit the sack."

Heero raised an eyebrow. "Dad?"

"See, you're the dad, and we're the sons."

"Riiiiight." The laptop once again whirred to life, and greenish light spilled over the bleak apartment.

"So, now, about my allowance," Vash teased on the way down the hall.

"You're grounded and you'll be getting no more allowance if you don't get your butt in bed right now." The glow of the screen leant Heero's mock scowl a demonic appearance, and Vash's eyes grew large as he reached the bedroom door.

"Dang. I'd hate to really be your son. That face – SCARY!"

* * * * * *

Van's eyes cracked open, squinting against the daylight that crept in through the worn Venetian blinds. If not for the chill still nipping at his exposed skin, he might have been able to forget where he was, even if just for a few minutes_. He clenched and unclenched his fists in order to get the blood flowing to his frozen fingers. __ I hate the cold. I hate this apartment. I hate this city. The only good thing about this trip so far has been... He shot straight up in the bed. __We have a meeting! I'll get to see Hitomi today. Better find something decent to wear. His eyelids started to droop again as he eyed his pillow longingly. __Ugh, that means I have to get up first._

The VP of marketing stumbled out of bed, lurching across his room. The first order of business, of course, was to locate something caffeinated, and preferably hot. Voices filtered through the hall as Van threw his door open. He blinked and was finally able to focus on his watch. It read nine a.m.

"Boss, don't tell me you were up all night," Vash sniffled, shuffling into the kitchen just ahead of Van.. "Achoo! Ugh. I feel horrible."

Heero's red-tinged eyes fluttered up from his computer screen. "The heat just started back up an hour ago. And don't sneeze on me."

"It's still cold in here," Van spat. "And since you've been up you could have at least started some coffee." He threw the software exec a dark scowl and opened the pantry in search of filters and the economy sized can of Folgers. He filled the pot and then dumped several scoops of grounds into the coffee maker, without measuring. A flip of the switch and the best invention ever was happily brewing a fresh pot of the bitter, life-saving fluid. Somewhat appeased, he turned back to his friend. "What did the repair guy say?"

"That it was a temporary fix, and he'd be back later this morning." Heero's head lolled forward, but snapped back up when Vash sneezed again and coughed. 

"Ugh. Boss, did you get any sleep?"

Heero massaged his temples. "No."

"Aw man. ACHOO!"

Van shook his head and grabbed up two mugs. He poured a cup for himself and one for Heero.

Quatre emerged from the bathroom. Vash picked that moment to start sneezing again. "Are you alright, Vash? You sound sick."

"I think I am, Quatre," The tester whimpered. "Hey, boss. Will you hate me forever if I bow out of today's meeting? You don't really – ACHOO – need me there, do you?" 

Heero pushed the hair away from his face as Van handed him the coffee. "Hn. I guess not. Besides, someone needs to stay here for Chad."

"Chad?" Van asked.

"The repairman," Heero answered, slowly gaining his feet.

Vash rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "Did you want your bed back? Ack – are we out of Kleenex?"

"No. Stay in my room," Heero offered. "I'll just grab a quick shower. The meeting got moved up to eleven, and we have to give ourselves enough time to get there." 

Van watched his sleep-deprived roommate disappear into the bathroom, left to himself while Vash snuffled and coughed, and Quatre rummaged through the kitchen cabinets in search of cough syrup. 

"It's alright, Vash. I thought I had some NyQuil or something here somewhere…"

"ACHOO! Ugh, that stuff is evil! I'll be in a coma all day – just dazed and drooling all over myself… "

"Isn't that normally how you are anyway?" Van smirked, unable to resist the dry barb now that he had had his first cup of coffee.

Vash glared across the room with puffy eyes. "Ha ha. Be nice or else I'll cough on you."

The marketing VP glowered and downed the last of his second cup. "Do it and you'll need more than NyQuil to help you." He spun on his heel. "I have to go and get dressed."

"Ahhh, yes the big meeting. I have it on good authority that Hitomi's favorite color is blue."

Van halted, but refused to turn around. "How would you know that?"

"I have my sources."

"Well," Van huffed over his shoulder, not liking the knowing grin displayed on his sick friend's face. "I don't see what that has to do with me." The door to his room slammed behind him, and GLLC officer rushed to his closet. _Hmmm, I hope my navy sweater is clean…_

* * * * * *

PCC Tower

Relena bit her lip and narrowed her eyes at the image in the mirror. She tugged at a stubborn strand of golden hair, tucking it behind her ear and willing it to stay in place. The VP straightened the lapels of her gray jacket and continued to scrutinize her reflection. 

"I'm being silly; this is just a business meeting. Heero doesn't care about how my hair is fixed or what I'm wearing…" 

"Miss Relena?" Sakura's voice floated across the office, interrupting her thoughts. The flustered young woman spun around, blinking at her secretary.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but the gentlemen from GLLC just arrived. They're waiting in the conference room."

"They're early," Relena choked as she quickly gathered files. Sakura raced to her side and took up an armful of papers. The two women rushed through the corridor. As they reached the conference room door Relena paused to take a deep breath.

"You'll be fine," Sakura smiled. "Mr. Milliardo trusts you completely. I know you'll do a great job. Go get them to sign that contract!"

Relena nodded and pushed on the latch. Three taller figures rose from their places at the polished table when she walked in. 

"Thank you all so much for coming. I know you're all very busy. Dorothy and Hitomi will be joining us shortly to go over an additional concerns you might…Heero?"

"Hn."

She took a step forward and studied his blood shot eyes, accented only by a pair of dark circles etched beneath them. His hair was even more disheveled than usual. "You look terrible."  
Van gave his friend a sympathetic clap on the back before lifting his brown eyes to meet Relena's. "He didn't get any sleep last night. The heat was out and he stayed up with the repairman."

"Oh." Relena felt her muscles relax. "Well, we can do this another day…"

"No!"

Relena's eyebrows shot up through her hairline as the three present GLLC officers answered together.

"This is as warm as we've been all day," Van explained, still clutching his jacket.

"Since yesterday afternoon, really. And poor Vash woke up with a cold. He's at home waiting for the repairman, "Quatre added.

A small frown tugged at Relena's lips. She knew the temperature had been well below freezing last night. "They still haven't fixed the heat?"

Heero growled.

"I guess that's a no. Would you like some coffee or tea?" She offered. "I'd be happy to get you something warm to drink."

Heero shifted where he stood, swaying a bit to one side before he caught himself. He seemed a bit unsteady on his feet. "Coffee."

Quatre and Van shrugged out of their jackets. Relena moved to take them.

"I'll have some tea, thank you."

"Tea's fine."

The men settled into their seats, and after Sakura brought their refreshments, Relena began her presentation. About ten minutes in, a distinct buzzing sound materialized from Heero's corner of the room. Relena stopped in mid-sentence and craned her neck in his direction. The software mogul was fast asleep.

Van scowled and moved to nudge his friend, but Relena held up a hand. "We'll continue this another day. Really, it's fine."

"We're very sorry, Miss Relena," Quatre apologized with a glance at his slumbering business associate. 

"It's all right," Relena repeated, switching off the digital projector. "We'll fit it in after the weekend. How about Monday or Tuesday?"

"We'll check our schedules and give you a call," Van said. He stood up and crossed his arms, staring down at Heero. "What should we do with him?" Van's gaze wandered from Heero to Quatre.

The blond man scampered backwards and put up his hands. "I'm not waking him up, you do it."

Van shook his head. "Nu-uh. Remember what happened last time? He dozed off in the test lab last year and when I went to get him, he knocked me out with the motherboard from his laptop. It was three hours before someone found me!"

"A dangerous man even in his sleep," Relena giggled. "You can leave him here. I'll make sure he gets home."

"Are you sure?" Quatre asked. "We hate to burden you…"

"It's no trouble," Relena assured them. "And if you wanted to stop in and see Hitomi and Dorothy, I'm sure they'd be more than happy to discuss the more specific points of what I was going to address in my presentation today."

"Well, I suppose since I'm here anyway…" Van sighed and reached for his jacket.

"If Miss Dorothy will have the time, I did have a question for her," Quatre said and took his coat down off the rack as well. Relena thought his cheeks looked a little pink, but he averted his gaze before she could be sure. She pointed the other two men towards the legal and marketing departments, then turned back to unconscious one at the conference table.

"Ok, Heero, not a motherboard in sight - guess I'll take my chances. Up you go…" She helped him to his feet and half-dragged, half-carried him the twenty yards to her office. "You're heavier than you look."

"Hn." Heero's head drooped forward.

She laid him on her office sofa, tucking a pillow under his head and covering him loosely with a blanket. She smiled at the picture he made. All men, even her older brother, looked like little boys in their sleep. Relena smoothed his hair off his face and bent to kiss his forehead. "Sleep well, Heero."

* * * * * *

"Here ya go, buddy! One giant hot cocoa – with extra foam, a box of tissues, a cough syrup that won't put you out until next Tuesday and last but not least, three dozen glazed donuts from Mick's Donut-O-Rama, and a bear claw with his compliments."

The shivering blond gratefully accepted the plastic shopping bags and hugged the box of pastries. "Thanks a million, Duo, you really saved my life! My so-called friends ditched me for some business meeting. Eh, just leave the door open. The hallway is warmer, I think. Stay and have a donut with me before you head downstairs – ACHOO!"

"Well…" The braided doorman hesitated, but only until Vash opened one of the boxes and started in on its freshly-baked contents. "I guess just one… or two wouldn't hurt. At least it's finally heating up in here."

"Thank goodness!" Vash sniffled. "I thought Kitty and I were going to end up frozen like that Wooly Mammoth some guy found in an iceberg; it was on the news a while back."

Duo nodded, helping himself to another donut. "Too bad about getting sick, though, man. Last thing you need."

Vash examined the cold medicine that his new friend had brought along. "Could be worse, I guess. And I've always been a quick healer."

"That's good." Duo reached into one of the bags and claimed his own box of donuts. "But at least you can get some rest. Anything good on tv today?" 

Vash coughed, then grabbed the remote and started clicking. "Ugh, probably not… Game show, talk show – 'Midget Alien Abductees Who Want to Take Over the World' - scary! Soap opera… Hey, what's this?"

The two men stared at the screen, curiously regarding the large group of people dressed in ruffled shirts, breeches and large-skirted dresses and singing against an impressive, very dramatic-sounding musical score. 

The taller of the pair grinned at the image of several busty female performers. "Ooooooh. I totally think they should bring back those corset things. Poor girls though – must be hard to breathe. I wonder what they're singing about."

Duo's eyes widened. "I think this is Les Miserables. It's my girlfriend Hilde's favorite musical, she's seen it like ten million times. They show the concert version on PBS once in a while. It's really good, actually. Have you and your friends had a chance to see any of the Broadway shows? Les Mis plays like everyday down on 41st street."

Vash sighed. "Nah, not yet. Hopefully one of these days, though."

"Yeah. Hey, let me know," Duo offered. "If you find yourself a nice girl, I'll bring Hilde and the four us can go."

The software tester pouted. "A nice girl… huh… ACHOO!"

"Bless you, Mr. Vash."

Vash didn't even have to look. He recognized that no-nonsense voice right away. "Hey, there, reporter girl. Reporter girl?! What the heck are you doing up here?"

"Well, there was no one downstairs, so I just let myself on up. You owe me an update, you know." Meryl removed her hat and gloves and stepped inside.

"B-b-but… Aww man! Come on in, why don't you?" Vash groaned and shot a pleading look at Duo. 

The doorman missed the subtle hint completely and merely winked, stole a quick look at Meryl, and gave the spikey-haired man a thumbs up before making his exit. "Hey, well guess that's my cue to get back to work. Later, Vash – hope you feel better. Nice to see you, Miss Reporter."

"Thanks a lot, Duo. I can't believe he just abandoned me. Geez, with friends like that, who needs enemies?" He coughed again and turned to the new arrival. "Look, Miss Meryl, if it's all the same to you I'm not really feeling up to being interviewed or just generally tortured with questions today, so if you could just… ACHOO!"

"Do you have a cold, Mr. Vash?"

Was that… could it be… SYMPATHY in her voice? Oh he could really use some of that right about now. Vash stuck out his lower lip and nodded slowly. "Uh-huh… I feel awful! And the heat's been off nearly all night, and Heero kicked me out of my nice, cozy bed, and…"

Meryl took off her coat and headed to the kitchen. "Go and rest on the couch," she commanded, opening the cupboards and searching through them. "What you need is my famous chicken soup! It's my very own recipe – guaranteed to make you feel better in no time! I have a few hours till my next interview, so I'll make you some!"

Vash's mind flashed over the possibility of his roommates coming home to find him here, alone, with a woman – a cute one at that. And Heero was already suspicious of the reporter. This could be nothing but trouble. He tapped her on the shoulder. "Uh, but Miss Meryl…"

She brandished a soup ladle. "Sit!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Vash loped over to sofa and collapsed. Kitty appeared and hopped up to snuggle under his master's chin. A man's strong tenor rang out from the tv: "Who am I? 2-4-6-0-1…."

"Huh, it's the rest of that play Duo was talking about. Well, Kitty – ACHOO – I guess a little culture won't kill us…"

*-ONE HOUR LATER-*

"Miss Meryl!" Vash sobbed, "I need another box of Kleenex! Oh my god, this is the most depressing thing I've ever seen. Those poor French people!" 

Meryl charged in the room, tossing a handful of tissues at her 'patient'.

"Well, what did you expect? The title of the show is 'Les Miserables!' You didn't think it was going to be happy, did you? Do you always cry at sad things on television – look at you, you're a mess!"

Vash lifted a tear-streaked face to the woman standing over him and blew his nose loudly. "No… I mean, I dunno… I CAN'T BELIEVE HE DIED! Aaaaaaaah!"

The reporter made a face and headed back to the kitchen. "I've heard it said that real men can cry, but you are ridiculous. The soup's finally ready!"

Blond spikes perked up over the drab living room furniture. "Food?"

"I knew that would cheer you up." Meryl set a steaming bowl of her creation on the table for the sniffling software tester.

"Wow – this is actually pretty good, reporter girl. I'm impressed!"

"Of course it's good! Now eat all of it and you'll be up and around by tomorrow. Didn't the others stay around to take care of you?"

"They had a business meeting. Not like Heero or Van would have anyways – taken care of me, I mean."

Meryl raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Business meeting? With PCC perhaps?" 

Vash grimaced. "Boy, you sure are nosy. But yes, with PCC." He slurped another spoonful of soup and suddenly brightened. "I wonder how things are going over there – and I'm not talking about business…"

His companion glanced at her watch. "Oh no! I have to get going! I have another interview scheduled in 45 minutes!"

"Who are you interviewing?"

The reporter crinkled up her nose as she wrapped herself in her coat. "Boy, you sure are nosy," she teased. "I'm just checking into some rumors I've heard."

Vash cocked his head to the side. "Rumors?"

"About PCC. But it's nothing concrete at this point."

The blond man studied the expression on her face. He had always been good at reading people, and he could see the concern written plainly on her features. "You would let me know if it was something bad, right, reporter girl? I think of Miss Relena as a friend, and if there was something we could do to…"

"I don't know yet, Mr. Vash. I just don't know." Meryl opened the door slowly and wrapped her scarf one more time around her neck. "Somehow, you managed to get out of it again."

He blinked innocently. "Get out of what?"

"The update you promised – and don't think I'm letting you off the hook just because you're sick. I will be back this week!"

"Oh… well, in that case – see you soon, reporter girl. Thanks for the soup, it was really good."

"You're welcome, Mr. Vash. It was… nice to see you." 

The door closed behind her, but Vash stared at the scuffed wood panel for a long time. He had to admit, he was actually sorry that she had to leave.

"It was nice to see you, too, reporter girl… ACHOO! Come on, Kitty, let's go back to bed."

* * * * *

It was dark, except for a single lamp light over an oak desk. He blinked and tried to focus on where he was. _The apartment? __No, not cold enough.   He frowned.__. __Where am I?_

He groaned and sat up, his eyes adjusting and taking in the sight of her working beneath the halo of light in the strange room. _Relena__?__ What is she doing here?_

"Did you decide to wake up?" He watched her put down a pen and slowly rise from her place at the desk.

Heero squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. This had to be a dream. "What time is it?"

Relena glanced at her watch as she shrugged into her suit jacket. "Nine o'clock in the evening. You've only been out ten and a half hours," she giggled. "I guess you needed to catch up on some sleep. Are you feeling better?"

He shook his head, trying to recall what had happened earlier that day. "How did I get in your office?"

"Well, you're pretty heavy." Relena crossed the room and unceremoniously dropped onto the cushion beside him. "I could only about half-carry you in here, but you sort of walked as I carried."

Heero turned to face her. "I don't remember."

"I'm not surprised."

"What happened at the meeting?"

Relena stretched and folded her arms behind her head. She sank back into the sofa. "Oh, I gave the most amazing presentation. Everyone was impressed, even you. You all signed the contract and then gave me controlling interest in GLLC."

Heero mustered a sleepy, yet skeptical glare. "Funny. No, really."

Relena sighed and got up, slowly making her way to the closet. "You fell asleep and I cancelled the rest of it. I figured while we were touring tomorrow, we could talk about it some more."

"Do you always work this late?" He asked, easing himself to the edge of the couch.

"No, not all the time." Relena handed him his coat and then slipped into her own, pulling set of keys from one of the pockets. "Anyway, I promised your partners I'd make sure you got home."

Heero followed her to the door. "Don't tell me you actually drive in this crazy traffic."

"No, but our friend Mr. Taxi driver does. These are so we can get out."

Heero scowled, still recalling his last encounter. "They're not my friends. The last cab driver I had tried to kill me."

Relena laughed as they stepped into the elevator. "They're mostly harmless. I usually take the subway, though."

"Not this late, I hope."

"I'll be fine."

They arrived on the ground floor, and Heero reached out to stop her before they passed through the large glass entrance. "You should have woken me up. Instead you're here way too late on a Friday night…"

"Hmmmm. Well, I was going to give you until midnight, then I was either going to wake you up or join you – depending on how tired I was at the time." 

"Hn," he remarked, trying to keep his mind from conjuring up the image of her sleeping with – next to him. He shook his head and stifled the urge to slap himself. _I'm just overly tired… _

The keys jingled in her grasp. "Come on, let's go."

Heero held fast. "You still should have woken me. I've already intruded…"

"You weren't too much trouble," she said, a smirk forming on her lips. "You kept your snoring down to a barely audible level." His eyes widened and he released his hold on her shoulder.

"I don't snore."

"You do snore," she argued, turning her attention to the nearest lock. "Not very loudly. Definitely not as loud as Milliardo, who sounds like a chain saw in the middle of a forest, but you snore."

Heero trailed behind her into the cool air of the winter night. "I don't snore."

"It was cute." She moved to the curb and raised her arm. "Really. Come on, I'll call you a cab." 

He stepped in front of her, taking her gloved hand in his. "You're not taking the subway."

"I'll be fine. I always am." Her eyes shone under the bright downtown lights and Heero watched the shadows flicker across her face. They obscured her expression, but Heero wasn't convinced that was all the darkness was hiding. "I promise."

"You're not invincible. It's okay to accept help from time to time." He could hear his own voice rising while his heart pounded fiercely in the confines of his chest. She wrenched her hand free. 

"Is that so? Tell me, Heero, is that advice you take yourself, or something you just give out as lip service?"

He blinked and looked away. 

"That's what I thought."

"You always do that," he mumbled.

"What?" Her tone was much calmer. It seemed to warm the air around them, melting the well-guarded barrier to his emotions. Truth poured from his lips like a newly thawed river in spring.

"Somehow, you… you manage to turn a mirror on myself and make me see, wanted or not, my weaknesses."

She smiled up at him, that sweet, sincere smile that made his insides churn and his pulse race. "You've made marked improvement already. I think that when we first met, you would have denied having any at all."

"Hn." 

"Goodnight Heero."

"Be careful."

She nodded. "Stay warm and get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

His eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner, the sounds of her footfalls echoing in the distance before the city seemed to swallow her up completely. Heero shivered at the sudden chill. He hadn't noticed it until now. "Goodnight."

* * * * * *

Vash stared up at the ceiling, listening in on the conversation that was taking place in the living room just beyond. The sound of a slamming front door had woken him only moments before, and Heero's low voice carried through the stark three-bedroom refrigerator, otherwise known as their apartment. He couldn't believe it when Quatre had told him that they had left Heero sawing logs in the PCC offices. And on top of that, when he had gone to the kitchen a while back for a cup of tea, he'd noticed that the temperature inside had once again taken a dramatic dip. Van had called the repairman and Vash just crawled back in bed, dreading the inevitable. Boss would have to find his way home eventually.

"Let me take a wild guess," Heero hissed. "The heat's still out?"

Quatre, Vash could tell, was attempting to keep things from getting out of hand. "Well, yes and no."

"Yes and no?"

"Yes, it's out," Van explained. "But it just went out again about an hour ago."

"Fuck." There was a loud crash that sounded like the coat rack being thrown against the wood floor. Vash pulled the covers up around his ears.

"Yeah," the marketing VP went on. "How was your nap?"

"Fine," the president growled. "I'm not thrilled that you left me there. She's a busy woman."

"Well, you know what you're like when someone wakes you up," Van reminded him. "We figured in the best interest of our continuing relationship with PCC, it'd be better to let you sleep in their conference room."

Vash could practically see the scowl on the software mogul's face through the white walls of the room. "If you weren't my partners, I'd fire you."

Van chuckled. "Yeah, well, falling asleep during a meeting with our most important client isn't exactly above reproach, either." _Ooooh__, good one._

There was a scraping sound, and some swearing – probably Heero picking up the coat rack from the floor. It stopped. 

"Where's Vash?" _Uh-oh._

Quatre spoke up again. "Asleep in your room."

The door flew open, and the bright hall light assaulted his bleary vision. "Get out!" Heero advanced towards the bed, looking ready to kill. Or, er, more like his regularly irate self. Vash leapt from the bed and tried to dodge the assault, but the shorter man caught him by the scruff of the neck and tossed him towards the door.

"EEEEEEEK!" He stumbled into the hallway, sniffling and holding tissues balled in the fist of his left hand. "Can't a sick guy get a break?"

Heero snarled and slammed the worn, wooden panel in his face. "Yeah, but only if you want one in your head."

"Damn. I swear he gets grumpier every day."

Vash rested his dizzy head against the wall, squinting as Van walked passed him. "Eh, well, since you're here. You can let the repairman in when he gets back, Vash. Good night."

"Aw man!"

Heero reappeared in the hallway. "Oh, and you forgot this." A black ball was launched into the air as the door banged closed again, and before Vash knew it, something furry and warm landed in his arms.

Vash sighed. "We just can't seem to get a break, can we, Kitty?"

"Meow."

* * * * * *

Past memories of sun and warmth began to feel like forgotten fantasies. Heero couldn't remember the last time he had actually felt something akin to warm. He closed his eyes and turned his back to the icy wind gusting over the waterfront. The salty scent it carried reminded him of home… and the frigid blast reminded him of the apartment. The heat had been out most of the night – again. "Actually, I think it IS warmer out here," the lone figure muttered to himself. 

"As opposed to where?"

He whirled around to find her standing there, bundled up in a cream colored coat and hugging a bulky package to her chest.

An answer escaped through his chattering teeth. "The apartment. Heat was out. All night." 

"Oh no! Well, here, I have a present for you. You look like you're about to freeze to death. That coat is completely inadequate." She tore open a large garment bag and produced a thick, down-filled parka for him to slip over his arms. He did so, watching as she moved around to face him and begin to button his coat. Her red fingers worked the buttons in place, then plucked the knitted mittens from his hands. She shoved a pair of fur-lined leather gloves into his arms. "There, put those on." His whole body began to tingle with warmth under her ministrations. As a final touch, she pulled a fleecy hat over his thick mane and grinned up at him. "Better?"

He nodded. God, it was so good to be warm. He had begun to think that since the moment he first set foot in this city, he had been chiseled from one solid block of ice. The outdoors were cold, the apartment was cold. His own coat had never made him feel this toasty. He seriously wanted to kiss her right now.

"All right. Now that you're warm, are you ready?"

He nodded again.

She smiled and took his hand. "Come on." Relena pulled him along the dock, passed several piers – some with boats anchored nearby, others completely vacant. She finally stopped at one hosting a fairly large sized yacht with the name Peacemillion emblazoned on the gleaming white side.

Heero stared up at the boat. "What's this?"

"Our touring vessel." Relena moved ahead and started up the wooden ramp that would lead them to the deck. "I figured you could get the same old boring tour from any place. But no one I know gives river tours, yet it's the easiest way to cover a lot of ground in a small span of time. Unless you prefer to try to fit in with the city."

They stood together at the front of the ship, looking out over the water to the jagged lines of buildings, signs and bridges just beyond.

"What do you mean?" Heero asked.

"It has its own personality, its own pulse and movement," Relena explained, gesturing to the vista stretched out before them. "You can try to match it, move to its beat, or you can travel through, mindful that it's unique and appreciative of its beauty, yet never really be a part of it."

"You don't feel at home here."

"Never have." Her tone didn't seem to be a sad one, just very matter-of-fact. And it struck a familiar chord inside him. Heero decided to change the subject. 

"Is this the company boat?"

Relena shook her head. "It belongs to Dorothy's uncle. He leases it out to us, though, pretty much anytime we need it."

"Ah."

"You sure this is okay?"

"I told you, you're in charge of the tour. Whatever you want to do is fine with me."

She smiled. "Well, I best go tell the captain we're ready to get going."

Aside from the bitter chill that his new parka kept at bay, the day was a beautiful one. The sun shone and glistened off the crests of the river as they glided around the bulk of Manhattan. Relena pointed out major buildings and told little stories about ones with which she had some sort of personal experience.

"And that one there, I think you've seen enough of," She chuckled, pointing at the ornate peak of the Empire State Building.

Heero glanced at her out of the side of his eye. "Hn."

"I met this guy there," she began in a conversational tone. "The rudest person I've ever had the misfortune of…"

"Watch it." 

She blinked and tried to look innocent, but he could see the humor dancing in her eyes. "Oh? Do you know him?" Her hand found its way to his right forearm. 

He turned to face her. "Used to. I think he froze to death in his uptown apartment the other night, though."

"That's so sad." She lowered her head, but not before he caught the smile on her face. 

"Why? I thought you said you hated him." He took a step closer and caught her other arm with his left hand. 

She looked up. "I don't hate him…."

He stepped closer, crossing the invisible boundaries of their personal space. "But you don't like him, either." Her eyes met his and he could see….he was affecting her, too. 

"I didn't say that."

He leaned down, mesmerized by the movement of those lips. Her cheeks were flushed, but it wasn't just from the cold. He released his hold to bring his gloved hand up to cup her chin. "Then what did you say?"

"I…" Her eyes darted away from his face, breaking whatever spell had been cast. He took a dizzying breath and then felt her grip tighten on his arm. "That's where the twin towers used to be." She leaned against his shoulder.

He turned and stared at the infamous site of the still fairly recent attacks. Despite the fact that nearly a year had passed since that nightmarish day, he could imagine that for those that lived there, it would not be something soon forgotten. He spoke to the top of her head: "Were you here when it happened?"

"In New York?" She met his gaze again, but only briefly. It was like she was trying to hide something she was sure her eyes would give away. 

"No. I was actually visiting my brother in Seattle. But…but Dorothy's father died in the attack that brought down the first tower. They were very close."

"I'm sorry."

"We all knew someone that was affected or was there, but it's never the same as losing someone dear to you. It..." Her head bowed for an instant, and she let out a long sigh before she was able to continue. "It makes you stop and think, re-evaluate your priorities in life."

Heero couldn't think of anything to say. He stole a glance at the young woman beside him, and quickly returned his gaze back to the city. He'd never had a reason to question his priorities; his life's direction had always been clear to him and free from doubt or distraction. Until now. Until… her. 

They continued on in silence for a while, the tip of the boat skimming over the water. The captain maneuvered their vessel around the Statue of Liberty, and Heero caught a fairly close view of the green-copper lady. Despite the wind rushing around their ears, the sound of his stomach growling caught her attention. Relena giggled and pointed at one of the cabin doors.

"I packed us a lunch for when we got hungry. We've seen most of the true tourist sites, if you want to discuss the contract, there's a fireplace below deck, a work area, and a dining table. Whenever you're ready, we can get to work, or eat. The captain's just going to troll the waters a bit until we tell him to go in."

"Sounds fine."

He pulled off his parka, gloves and hat before sitting down on the sofa across the room from the small, but very efficient fireplace. He watched her struggle a bit with her own winter clothing, catching his errant thoughts drifting towards the pleasing idea of her just continuing in the direction of removing all her clothes for him. He shook his head and turned away. "Completely inappropriate," he muttered to himself.

"Hmmmm?" She pivoted in his direction, fisting her hair in her left hand as she fought to tie it up with a rubber band in her right. "What was that?"

He tried not to scowl. "Nothing."

"Oh. Ready to eat?" 

"Whenever is fine."

She moved towards a small kitchen area, quickly returning with a large basket and a full thermos of tea. "Did you see everything you wanted to see? We could still take a walk to Central Park or something if you'd like. I just thought this would be a way we could get some work done in a fairly private setting, but a little more laid back than at the office – and quieter than the restaurants in this city."

Heero shook his head. "I've seen all I need to. All that I wanted to. I'm not much for crowds or boring tour guides. This was much better, thank you."

She beamed as she handed him a mug of hot tea. "You're welcome. So, about lunch…"

"Okay, I'm hungry," he admitted. "But if you'd rather…"

"No, I'm hungry, too." Relena opened the basket and began extracting napkins and plastic plates.

"Good." Heero eyed the basket, staring at each item as she emptied it

She laughed and handed him a sandwich before scooting in next to him. "Good, huh?" 

He nodded. "So did you bring me that report?"

Relena swallowed her bite of sandwich. "I didn't feel I had an adequate listing yet. I was just sure more faults would pop up as we spent more time together." She crossed her legs, and he couldn't help but follow them with his eyes. 

_Dammit__. Stop looking! _

"And you're not my only business you know. I have an entire company to run."

Heero raised an eyebrow. "Must be difficult being perfect."

Relena shrugged. "It's a hard life."

"Hm. But a perfect person would have had that report done days ago, so it looks like you have some faults of your own."

"Damn. The jig is up, you've found me out. What can I say? I've been hanging around you."

"Is that so?"

Her eyelids fluttered and she took a sip of her coke. "Tragic. Your faults are now spreading."

"Hn."

"Whatever did you do before you had me to point out your failings and pester you about contracts and such?"

"Suffered."

An unfamiliar expression crossed her features, and Heero looked on while Relena sat back and studied him for several quiet minutes. When she finally spoke again, her tone had lost the light-hearted tone of just a few moments ago. "Seriously…you're so different than everything I'd heard about you – or did coming to New York change you for the better?"

Heero stole a quick glance out of the nearest window. "I wouldn't give the city any credit."

"So the rumors were wrong?"

He felt the muscles in his neck and shoulders stiffen as he kept his eyes focused on the wall. "They're probably more correct than you are."

"Oh?" Relena frowned. "So you prefer being thought of as ruthless and robotic?"

"I…wouldn't say I prefer being thought of that way in general. I suppose it depends on who says it whether I mind or not."

She slid to the floor and leaned back against the couch, pillowing her head on the cushion next to where he was seated. "I don't see you that way at all. You're…contained, but not unexpressive. And the way you care for your friends shows the sort of loyalty and depth of emotion you're capable of." She shifted to her left side and brought both arms up to cradle her head. "I have the sneaking suspicion you'd do anything for them."

"They irritate me at times…but they are my friends." He allowed himself to slump farther down into the cushioned seat. The warm room and a full stomach were beginning to have an effect on him after a morning spent outside. And Relena… he found that he was becoming less guarded, even comfortable, in her presence. The fragrance of her hair met his senses and Heero felt his eyes droop closed. 

"Mmmmm…just as I thought, it seems." Her smooth voice massaged his ears. "You're a regular softy at heart, aren't you, Yuy?"

He snorted. 

"Yep…you probably cry at romance movies, too, don't you?" Relena sighed. Her words were slowing down and when his leg twitched in her direction, it seemed to like staying where the tips of her fingers grazed his thigh, and her breath tickled his knee.

"I wouldn't be caught dead watching one."

He heard the sound of a yawn as he slid down further in his seat. 

"Mmmmm…don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

"Is it?" he murmured, consciousness slipping through his fingers like the imagined texture of the silken threads of her hair.

"Mmmmm…hmmmm….safe…with…me."

"Hnnnnnn….."

His right leg felt sore and numb, that harsh tingling sensation trickled through the stiff muscle, lodging at its core. He tried to move the stubborn limb, to stretch it out and find some relief, but there was a weight holding it in place, making it difficult to shift. He cracked his eyelids and lifted his aching neck to peer at the obstruction.

It was golden-haired and wore a sweater, with arms wrapped around his leg and her head was using it like a pillow. Heero moved to reposition his upper body in a pose more conducive to sleeping in, and ended up lying on his back on the floor. He gingerly extended his leg, trying not to wake her, though he was not fully alert himself. Through the misty layers of sleep fogging his brain, he didn't question the fact she was there or the familiarity displayed in the way she was cuddled with his leg. His subconscious mind had, apparently, no problems with her position, just his cramped thigh. She stirred, relinquishing her hold on his lower extremity, and her head darted up as sleepy eyes smiled in his direction. His slid shut, returning to remembered sleep, the image of her smile fresh in his mind….

He slid his eyes open again, feeling that decidedly welcome heat start to drain away. He reached out for its source, and finding it, dragged it back to him, fitting his arm around the soft figure in case it tried to escape again. 

"Heero?" It spoke, causing him to open his eyes again, this time a bit more awake as he realized there was someone lying next to him, like really close next to him. He fought through the haze of sleep to remember if there was a reason a woman should be in his bed…

"Heero are you awake?" 

"Hn."

"Is that a yes?"

His hold tightened around her, tugging on her waist to bring her closer to his body. He could smell the fragrance of her hair mingled with the detergent she used to wash her clothes. It was pleasing, soothing, like everything else about her. 

"Heero?"

"Hrn." 

"Heero, you have to wake up. If you're tired, I'll take you home, but…"

"To Seattle?" he mumbled. "That's a long way…"

She wriggled against him and he felt her hands on his, trying to pull his fingers off her waist. _Mmmmmm__, Relena…._

"Not to Seattle. Heero…you realize that if someone saw us, like this, right now, there would be a lot of questions…"

He breathed in deeply and turned away. "Like how?"

Relena struggled, but to no avail. "Like this. You've got me in a vice grip…"

"You're warm."

"So's the fire."

He nuzzled into her shoulder. "You're soft, too."

She pushed his elbow away from her ribcage. "You're not."

He smirked. "You're right."

"Heero!"

"Huh? Relena?" He released his grip on her as he sat up. A hand came up and rubbed roughly across his face. 

She cleared her throat and glanced away. "I guess we were both pretty tired."

"Yeah," he sniffed. "Seems that way."

"I…I'll go tell the captain to take us back. You should get some rest."

"So should you."

She smiled, her eyes avoiding his gaze. "Yeah. I'll be right back."

He watched her leave, his heart thrumming wildly from waking up with her pressed against his body – by his own doing, apparently. A dizzying sensation fogged his mind, probably caused from sleep, slowing down his brain functions and forcing him to think of how much more he'd like it if he had woken to find her naked and lying in his bed – instead of fully clothed and lying near him on the hardwood floor. An uncomfortable ache steaming in his lower body wanted her attention…. He un-tucked his shirt to cover the effect.

_ So much for three years of friendship, he thought as his mouth twisted into a grimace. Three years? He wouldn't have lasted three more minutes with her that close to him, her jasmine scented hair wafting pleasantly into his nose as he felt every inch of her feminine form through her clothes. __Damn. This wasn't going to work at all. He was now officially beyond the safe zone of attraction, and well into the dangerous one-way stretch called desire. __ He'd never make it the remaining…two years, eleven months, 358 days, seventeen hours and two minutes – not like he was counting or had been counting since he met her – being in such close proximity on any sort of regular basis. He couldn't trust himself around her; he was obviously losing his control, and that was far too dangerous a thing to do when he could lose everything he'd worked for…. _

_I just…need to get this contract thing over with, and get her out of my life. The thought crushed out his breath, weighing on his chest as if an elephant had decided to sit there and use his heart as a footrest. But he didn't have a choice, it was either not see her and keep his company, or continue to see her and risk the consequences – consequences he was just not willing to pay._

"The captain's bringing the boat back to the dock. I guess we didn't get much work done, but if you wanted…"

He stood up and side-stepped her, refusing to meet her eyes. He busied himself collecting the gloves and hats scattered around the cabin. "It's fine. I'm sure I've had enough time to look over it by now. My only question was about the changes referenced, but I…trust you. I'll sign it."

Relena's coat dropped from her grasp. "You…you'll sign it?"

"Yeah." _It's the least I can do…._

_ "But, you didn't get a chance to go over the changes. Are you sure you want to…" The shrill sound of her cell phone cut off the rest of her sentence. "Excuse me, Heero. I'll just be a… Hello?"_

Heero felt around his pockets in search of a pen. He was going to sign the document, and get off the boat, and never see her again. _At least not for three years. He took a deep breath and fought off that errant train of thought. There was no way a woman like her would not have other dates, other men pursuing her. And damned if his pockets were all empty. He tore himself from the chair and stomped off to look for a pen._

"Yes, yes of course. I…" He was ripped from his thoughts when he heard metal scrape the floor in a heinous shriek. Her pale, trembling form sunk into the seat he had just vacated, tears evident on her lashes. His heart stopped, and he took a step towards her, listening intently for what had caused her distress. 

"I…no, whatever you have to do. You have my permission. I'll leave right away." She pressed the button to end the conversation on the phone, her eyes glued to the floor. He opened his mouth to speak to her when she punched another key and raised the device in a shaking hand to her ear. 

"Sakura, I need a flight to Seattle tonight. I don't care how, I just need to be on the next plane out of New York headed that direction. No, I'll go straight there from here. Call me back." 

Heero moved towards her. "Relena?"

"I have to get off this boat." She got up and hurried out the door before Heero could utter another word.

She came back, fidgeting and pacing – she wouldn't look at him, and hadn't spoken to him since he said he'd sign the contract. She just stared out the window, the dried tears caking her makeup in faint circles around her eyes. It was like she wasn't even in the room.

"If you have a pen, I'll sign the contract."

She blinked and finally looked up at him. "Sign it when you've looked over the addendum and talked to your partners. I can't do anything until I get back."

"I'd rather get this out of the way. You have other business, apparently. Is there…?"

Relena cut him off. "Yes. Urgent business."

"I guessed. Is…something wrong?"

"No, I just have to get to Seattle tonight."

"There's no one there that can see to it? Your brother…" He quieted when he noticed the pained expression on her face. She shivered and brought her hands up to cross against her chest.

"I have to go. I'm sorry." She spun on her heel and grabbed up the coat she had been wearing when they first boarded. The VP wasted no time in securing it over her shoulders, and tearing open the door – but she stopped halfway into the corridor, and threw a look over her shoulder. "Aren't you coming, Heero? Or have you decided to live here instead of your apartment?"

He smirked. "It's probably warmer."

A faint smile touched her lips. "Oh, I threw your sad excuse of a coat overboard. You won't be needing it anymore."

He shrugged on the down-filled warmth that was not quite as nice as Relena's embrace and sighed. His mind was made up. He was going to tell her before she left – he'd sign the contract, and have it sent to her office this week, but he couldn't see her anymore. Period-the-end. Not for casual lunches or working dinners, or meetings, unless there were plenty of other people present and she was dressed in high collars and remained at least ten feet away at all times. And showed no leg whatsoever. Damn, he was pathetic. He wondered what it would be like not to see her at all for the next three years, to try to forget they had ever met.

_It will be the same as the last three years, and the three years before that, he told himself ruthlessly. __Stop making this a big deal. She's a woman, a distraction – look at what she's doing to you. He sucked in the last of the warm air and climbed the stairs to the deck._

The boat was nearing the dock, and she looked like they couldn't get there fast enough. He wondered vaguely about the business she had to conduct in Seattle – why it would pain her so. But women were emotional creatures, and it was probably just that they were losing an account or something, not really the end of the world. 

"What time's your flight leave?"

"Eight thirty-five," she answered, staring straight ahead. "From La Guardia."

"You have time."

"I know."

"Listen…." He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come out. _I can't see you anymore._

"Yes?"

His voice stuck in his throat. He couldn't say it; he didn't want to say it. But this wasn't about what he wanted, it was about his business and everything he had ever worked for. It was what was best, for both their companies. "I…."

Relena whirled around and let out a long breath. "Look, if it's about the contract, I'd really feel more comfortable if you'd look over the addendum of changes with your partners and make sure everything is agreeable to you."

"It's not that…I…"

The boat jolted them both forward as it collided with the dock. He grabbed her arm as she stumbled into him. "Sorry," she mumbled, extracting herself from his hold.

"It's okay."

He followed her over the deck, taking deliberately long strides to keep up with her rapid pace. "We'll have to talk about this later. I have a cab waiting to take me straight to the airport. I really have to go." She stopped at the railing and looked up at him. Her light eyes were darkened by the reflection of the night sky; the rising moon lending its ethereal glow to change them to a darker sapphire color set in platinum or white gold. His mind blanked and all he could manage was a brief nod.

"I had a nice time today," she said as a sad smile tugged at her features. "I…I'll call you when I get back in town and see if you have questions about the addendum. Then we can go from there." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and drew him into a friendly hug. But his lethargic brain was still on the image of the moon, reflecting off her pale skin left bare by the black nightie she wore in his bed…._WHAT? _

A wave rocked the vessel beneath them, throwing them off-kilter once more. "Relena, I…"

"I really have to go," she said, and tried to balance on tiptoe, despite the erratic pulse of the boat. He leaned down, thinking maybe she had something else she wanted to say, only to be jostled once more in a sideways direction. He caught himself, and ducked his head just in time to feel soft rose petals, warm and fragrant, brush against his lips. His breath caught in his throat and his senses screamed for more, but her lips were gone before he could react – her pliant body retreating from his loose embrace.

She gasped and brought a hand up to her mouth, mumbling something that sounded like an apology as she spun away, darting through the small gate in the railing and landing gracefully on the dock. Heero watched her rush to the nearby taxi and disappear in front of his eyes, her kiss still pleasantly stinging his cold-chapped lips. He took in a deep gulp of pungent, frozen air and tried to calm his racing heart. 

When the world had righted itself, he stepped off the boat, his eyes still focused on the phantom place where she had last appeared. Clouds moved and enveloped the moon, leaving him with only the faint, dingy light of a few streetlamps as he felt the cold once again invade the cells of his body. 

"Goodbye, Relena."


	9. I want to get this contract thing settle...

Here we are once again – yes, took us long enough I know…  We hope it's worth the wait – Vash and Meryl get some screen time this chapter ^_^  And thank you, Trigun readers as always, for sticking with us.  This is our first attempt at writing Vash and Meryl and we really appreciate you giving this a shot.

Last but not least, there is a reference to Sept. 11th in this chapter, and falling so near the date was a coincidence.  But since we weren't able to post it in time, just let us say that yesterday and always our hearts are with the victims, their families and everyone who hopes, fights and prays for love & peace in this world.

Here is chapter 8 ~ Love from Stella and Rose

LOVE'S LABOURS LOST

Chapter 8

Lions Gate Apartments

Uptown NYC

"I don't think so, fool."  The sound of rapid gunfire spilled out into the hallway, throbbing in time with the flickering of the television set.  Vash sat firmly entrenched on the sofa, chewing on a salmon sandwich and wholly enraptured by the tenth episode in the "All Day A-Team Marathon" he'd been watching since he woke up.  To his surprise, he was feeling much better this morning, despite spending another heatless night the GLLC officers' personal indoor Arctic.  He had to admit that Reporter Girl was a good cook, and her soup had done the trick.  _Hm__, I wonder what Miss Meryl is up to today….?_

  He frowned as Van walked in front of the screen, again – this time carrying an armful of used soda cans and one of Heero's half-dissected laptops.

"Hey, down in front!  Mr. T was trashing the bad guys and I missed it!"

Van shot his roommate a withering glance, collected another can from atop the tv, and trudged out.  Vash heard the sound of crashing recyclables from the kitchen and the slamming of the hall closet as Van unceremoniously deposited the gutted computer inside.  The tester scrunched up his face, his eyes trailing after his friend as the marketing  VP re-entered the living room and focused his attention on the dimmer switch.  He tapped it lightly from left to right and back again, creating a subtle glow to combat the darkening sky just outside the window.  Van mumbled under his breath, and he stood back and seemed to be studying the lamplight.  His eyes continued to rove over the newly organized room as if examining and obsessing over each detail until finally discerning that there was something still not quite right.

"Vash, get out."

The blond spikes turned in his direction.  "Huh?  Why?  What'd I do?"

Van strode towards the sofa, straightening the disheveled pillows and smoothing the rumpled cushions.  "Hitomi, I mean, Miss Kanzaki is coming over this evening so that we can have another look at the marketing numbers for this new deal with PCC.  We need it to be… quiet, so we can concentrate," Van explained, pulling a pillow out from beneath Vash, who was promptly launched off the furniture and soon found himself on the floor staring up at a scowling Mr. Fanel.  Van marched up to the television, switching it off just another A-Team episode started.

"Hey!  Not Mr. T!  Awww, c'mon!"  Vash frowned and massagedhis bruised backside.  

"Do you want Hitomi to go back and tell the Peacecrafts that we're a bunch of slobs?" Van huffed, picking up his friend's sandwich wrapper and throwing it at him.  

"Well, we are pretty much a bunch of slobs," Vash answered with a grin.  "And I'm still recovering from my cold.  Do you want me to go out there and catch pneumonia?  Would you be able to go on with my untimely demise on your hands?"

Van fished out a half eaten donut from between the couch cushions and lobbed it in Vash's general direction.  "Absolutely."  

"Take it easy! I'm going, I'm going." He rose to his full height and glared down at Van.  "Concentrate, huh? Maybe I should stay here to make sure the only figure you're going over is the one on the paper."

Van's eyes flashed, causing the grinning blond to take a step back.  "This is just business," he spat out, the volume of his voice rising while he continued herding Vash towards the hall.  "I just don't want any interruptions, alright?  I want to get this contract thing settled so we can go on with our plans."

Vash grabbed onto the doorjamb and leered at the marketing VP.  "To elope?" 

Van rolled his eyes and gave his roommate another shove.  "To take a break from this corporate insanity.  Hitomi is here until the deal is done, after that, she's not in the picture.  This is all just a minor inconvenience."

"Right," Vash said as he was pushed into the elevator; his coat was thrown in after him.  Picking up the jacket, he watched between closing doors as Van strode away, stopping only to check his image in one of the large hallway mirrors.  "Until the deal is done," Vash repeated, feeling the rush of motion pulling him downwards.  His own voice echoed in the elevator's small space.  "Keep telling yourself that, my friend.  Maybe you'll believe it."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

Metropolitan Museum of Art

Downtown Manhattan

The museum lobby wasn't very crowded and he spotted her right away. That fur coat and the cascade of platinum blond hair were very hard to miss.  Quatre rubbed his icy hands together and glanced down at his watch. He frowned, thinking back to the impossible mid-town traffic and trying to stop his teeth from chattering as he walked across the expansive tile floor to where she stood.  "Miss Dorothy?  I'm sorry if I've kept you waiting."  

She spun around; her bright smile warmed him instantly.  "Oh, not at all.  I've only been here a few minutes.  The expressway was really out of hand tonight."  

He nodded.  "I'm glad to hear that."  

Dorothy shot him a puzzled look.  "That traffic was a mess?"

Quatre stared at her, forcing his brain into action.   "No!  Uh… I mean, that you weren't waiting long, I'm glad."

"Oh."

Quatre took a step back, trying to fill the moment of awkward silence with a glance around the building's interior.  It seemed to go on forever in either direction, the long, clean lines interrupted only by banners and signs advertising the latest special exhibits: Impressionists, Egyptians, Medieval and even historic clothing – just to name a few.

"Where would you like to start, Miss Dorothy?  From the looks of it, we could get lost for days in here."

Dorothy's gloved hand brushed against his cheek as a throaty laugh escaped her lips.  "Hmmm, I don't think I'd mind that very much, would you Mr. Winner?"

The CFO felt heat flood his face.  "I… well…"

She laughed again.  "Well, why don't we go get our coats taken care of and then we can decide.  I figured we could grab a light dinner at one of the cafes here and talk about the contract, if you had any more questions."

"That sounds fi-"  Before he could finish his sentence, she had grabbed his arm and was leading him to the coat check stand.

"Actually, there is an exhibit on now – art by some 20th century European artists, dedicated to their lovers."

Quatre choked, possible examples of the subject matter flashing red-light warnings through his brain.  "Really?"

"Yes.  There's a piece in there my mother donated to the museum in memory of my father.  I wanted to see it on display."

He smiled up at her and shrugged out of his jacket.  "I would… really like to see that with you, Miss Dorothy."   

She handed her fur over to the attendant and took the arm he willingly offered.

"I think it's this way…"

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

116th Street

Uptown NYC

The cool night air slapped his cheeks and the sounds of rushing cars on the city streets greeted him when he stepped outside.   Vash squinted, craning his neck in an attempt to see whether his favorite donut shop was still open two blocks down the way.

"Come on, Mick-the-donut-man, don't let me down – you're my last hope!"

            Vash shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged forward, lowering his head against the frigid gusts of wind that came spiraling between the buildings as he passed.  The streetlamps offered sparse illumination along his path, and lonely traveler walked along in silence, all the while casting wary glances at the dark, vacuous alleyways.  His mind wandered through all the ways a poor, innocent and unarmed guy could meet an untimely end after being unjustly banished from his cozy apartment for the evening.  

"Robbers," he muttered, shivering, eyes darting nervously from side to side.  "Gangsters… murderers… aw man…"  He very suddenly became aware of footsteps closing in fast behind him. He picked up his pace, all the while crafting a mental image of a burly, tattooed, knife-wielding psychopath hot on his heels.   "I hate confrontations... How could he do that?  Throw his best buddy out into the cold?"  Vash could see a long shadow stretching out into the street from behind.  The shady figure was picking up speed and gaining on him.   "Van Fanel, if I die tonight I'm going to haunt you to your grave!  Oh, why me!  Gah!  What was that?  I'm gonna have a heart attack here!"  The footfalls grew louder, and Vash stole a glance over his left shoulder, only to feel a vice-like grip clamp down on his right.

            "Ahhhh!!!  Please don't hurt me!  Here, take all my money, ok, well you can have most of it, I'd really like a donut – just don't kill me!  I, uh, have a bunch of hungry kids to feed at home… Yeah!  And a… kitty!  That's right, a little baby kitty!  If I die they'll be thrown out onto the street and left to…  oh, it's you."

Meryl Stryfe rolled her eyes.  "Kitty?  Is that the best you could do?  Chicken is more like it!  I can't believe those three friends of yours let you out in public unsupervised.  What the heck were you yelling about back there?  You're probably scaring all those poor defenseless criminals hanging out in the alleys."

Vash lowered his arms, relief flooding through him as he focused on Meryl's pursed lips and glittering eyes. 

"I was, uh, um…"  _Gee, she's a cutie…  "Keeping the streets safe for sweet and vulnerable damsels such as yourself.  It's awfully dangerous for you to be walking around alone at night, reporter girl; I strongly advise against it.  You never know what kind of scary and unsavory freaks you could run into out here."_

"Yeah," Meryl replied with a shake of her head, her gaze flew up at the tall blond as her mouth twisted into a smirk.  "Freaks, huh?  You never can tell."

"So, I can't in good conscience let you continue unaccompanied," Vash said, offering Meryl his arm, and straightening his posture while he sniffed at the crisp night air.  "I was just on my way Mick's Donut-o-Rama to check on this evening's supply of glazed and sugared, would you care to join me, madame?"    

Meryl let out a frosty sigh and linked her arm with his.  "Well, someone's got to keep an eye on you and make sure you don't get into any trouble."

"Gee, thanks a lot," Vash mumbled, but smiled at the warmth and comfort of her closeness on the desolate city street.

"_Does this count as cheating?" he mused as they walked on. __ "Nah… it's a 'not-a- date' – she was following me!  Yeah!  Completely not my fault!'" _

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Lions Gate Apartments

"Don't even think about going out!"  Van gave the thermostat a threatening glance before setting off on yet another impatient lap around the living room.  The clock above the coat rack read 6:15 – Hitomi was supposed to have arrived at 6.  "Huh, the one on the microwave only says 6:10, but the time on the VCR is 6:21."  He compared the time with the one on his wristwatch.  "Hm… 6:12…"  A hand came up to run through his thick dark hair, and then found a nearby pillow with the intent to send it sailing across the room.  "Gah, where is she?  And just what the hell time is it really!"

A sharp knock at the door made him jump and the marketing VP froze, the pillow still clutched in his fist.  "What the?"  

The sound repeated.

"Huh…  Hitomi!"  He skidded across the wood floor and flung the door open.  Wide green eyes met his as her hair ruffled from the gust of air.  Van cleared his throat and tried to relax his stiff pose into something more natural.

"Hey."

Her cold-flushed skin seemed to glow in the hall's dim light.  "Hi, Van. Sorry I'm a bit late, but I thought you might be hungry."

"Oh, no problem at all, hadn't even noticed the time.  And I'm starved, actually," he stepped back, gesturing for her to come in and eyeing the large white box she carried.  "And believe it or not, we haven't had a chance to try any famous New York pizza, yet."  He glanced down at the pillow he still held and tossed it behind his back in the direction of the couch, giving his visitor an innocent grin.

Hitomi smiled, and seemed not to notice.  "Well, in my opinion, Vinny's is the best." She balanced the awkward container atop an armful of unsteady files. "Where do you want me to put it?"

Van blinked, then leapt forward.  "Oh here, I'll get it.  I'm sorry, please make yourself at home…"

            He swung the box out of her grasp and placed it gently on the counter.  After rummaging around, he came up with the choice of two paper plates or two of Vash's 'fashion' programmer Correlle-ware "I code therefore I am" place settings.  He opted for the two paper plates and an apologetic smile.

            "Sorry about the 'dishes' – or lack thereof," he said as he handed the already grease soaked plate to the young woman seated on the couch. 

            Hitomi giggled and pried the pizza from his hand before setting it down on the coffee table.  "It's okay.  Paper plates are fine.  Besides, you're all bachelors.  I'm surprised you have any plates at all."

            Van glanced around the apartment, and then back at Hitomi.  "Hey.  I…resemble that remark.  You should have seen me trying to clean up this place before you got here."

            "Oh, I can imagine," 

            "Heero with his half dead machinery and Vash with his donuts and soda cans."

            "What about Quatre?"

            "Quatre's neat as a pin, sometimes I even forget he's here."

            Hitomi swallowed her first bite of pizza. "Figures.  And you?"

            Van let out a long breath and shrugged his shoulders.  "I try.  I just get…preoccupied sometimes.  But I'm pretty organized most of the time."

            "I see," she bit her lip, and her eyes wandered in the direction of the kitchen.  "Speaking of soda cans, I don't suppose.…"  
            Van jumped to his feet.  "Oh!  Drinks… right - what would you like?"

            "What do you have?"

            "Um, let's see…" He hurried towards the fridge, grateful for the moment to hide behind the bulky white door and collect his thoughts.  It had been a very long time since he'd been alone with a woman.  His last relationship had ended in a disaster that could have cost him Heero's friendship.  He should have known.  Millerna had always made him feel uneasy, inadequate.  Hitomi just made him feel…    Van smiled and peered into the fridge.  "Coke, Dr. Pepper, Diet Dr. Pepper, Jolt, Mountain Dew…" 

            "I'll take the Diet Dr. Pepper.  Who drinks that?"

            "Vash," Van snorted.  "He drinks just about anything carbonated with caffeine, and they were having a sale."

            "I…Thank you," she said, her voice dropping to just barely above a whisper when his fingers grazed hers on the soda can.  She stared at the floor, then took up her plate once again.  

            "You're welcome." He sat down next to her on the couch, and paused for a moment.  He just watched her eat her pizza, green eyes wide and obviously enjoying every bite.  "And thank you." He leaned closer to his companion..

            She swallowed and took a quick drink of soda.  "For what?"  She turned to face him and he realized they had somehow grown dangerously close.  The logical side of him protested, telling him to back away.  But the rest of him wanted so much to just lean those last few inches forward and kiss her glossy lips.  

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and sat up, forcing himself to look away. "Thank you… For the pizza."

            She brightened and stood up to get them each another slice.  "Oh, no problem.  It's the least I can do, since you had to do all that cleaning for me – and since I had to pass up lunch with you again yesterday because of my appointments.  I would have really liked to go… with you, I mean."

            His mouth curled into a sad smile in response.  He hadn't dated anyone since Millerna, and there was definitely no comparing the two.  Hitomi may not be as refined – she didn't mind her pizza on a paper plate, or drinking soda from a can – but she had an elegance and beauty all her own.  Van knew that she'd never treat him the way Millerna had; he couldn't help but feel that with Hitomi, his heart was safe. 

He sighed and turned towards the counter. His gaze meandered from the side of her face down the graceful curve of her neck, then travel further as he appreciated her thin, well proportioned…. He caught himself and forced his eyes to somewhere neutral.  Her hand… which rested over the tower of files beside the pizza box, just above a tiny waist, nicely rounded hips and…

"Did you want to go over those figures now?"

His eyes snapped up to meat hers.  "Wha-?"  

_"Maybe I should stay here to make sure the only figure you're going over is the one on the paper."_

"Damn it, Vash."

Hitomi made her way back over to the sofa.  "Excuse me?"

_What on Earth ever possessed me to listen to Heero and swear off of women for three years? THREE YEARS!_

"Is something wrong?"

He covered his eyes with a sweaty palm and sank back into the cushions. "No. I'm fine.  I suppose we should take a look at the contract, since that's what you're here for."

A whisper of a touch grazed his shoulder, and he looked down to find her hand resting there. "Van, if something's bothering you…"

He shot up, sitting rigidly on the edge of the couch.  "Hitomi, do you…do you date very much?"

The hand fell from his shoulder and she turned away.  "I don't really know what business that is of yours."

"Humor me?"

"Not much.  I… I don't have a lot of time."

His gaze met hers then dropped to the floor.  "Do you think you'll have a lot of time over the next…say, three years or so?"

"Three years?"

Van nodded.

"Well," Hitomi put the plates down and smoothed her sweater.  "I had kinda hoped to be married before I was twenty-six, although it's not exactly one of my high priorities right now.  I've got work…."  She leaned forward and squinted at him.  "Why are you asking me this?"

 "I'm sorry.  I have no right to pry into your personal life."

"It's…okay, Van."  He heard folders shuffling beside him.  "I, did you want to go over the contract, now?"

Van could feel the frown tugging at his lips.  "Is that the only reason you're here?"

"What other reason should there be?"

"I don't know.  I thought, maybe…"

"Oh, I get it.  That's what this is."  A flurry of papers landed on his lap and Hitomi rapidly gained her feet.  She scowled down at him, the soft luster in her eyes ignited into raging sparks.   "This is all just one big elaborate set up so that you can satisfy your ego.  Do you think that just because I'm not as high up on the corporate ladder that I'll just throw myself at you?  Well, let me tell you, Van Fanel, all the money and good looks in the world won't save you from being an egotistical jerk!"

She spun on her heel and headed for the door, snatching up her heavy coat along the way.

"Hitomi!"  Van raced ahead and wedged himself between the angry woman and her exit.  "Please let me expl-"

"You've said quite enough, Mr. Fanel.  If you think I'd do anything you want to get you and your friends to sign that contract, you are very mistaken."

Van stood his ground as she tried to push passed him.  "That's not what I meant.  Hitomi, please don't go.  I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

The fire was still burning in her eyes.  "Then what did you mean, Van?"

"I meant….I meant…oh hell, Hitomi," his shoulders sagged and he banged his head on the door.  "I don't know what I mean anymore."

"Van?"

He moved aside, turning so that his back rested flat against the wooden panel, pressing his weight against it to open it further .  "I… it's alright.  I understand, if you want to go –"  He closed his eyes, waiting to hear the rustle of fabric, the sound of her footsteps, to feel her brush by him and leave him… alone.  

"Is there anything I can do?  Maybe I can help if you just tell me what's bothering you."  

            "It's not that simple."

Hitomi drew in a deep breath and started through the doorway.  "I see.  Well, maybe we should wait and go over this another time."

"Wait." He grabbed her hand and pulled her back inside the apartment, letting the door close softly behind them.   

"Yes…Van…" 

He wet his lips and watched her eyes close, waiting for him to kiss her.  He felt his heart pounding in his chest, and he leaned closer – everything within him wanting to….

The front door swung open with a furious bang, startling the pair away from one another.  Heero stomped in wearing something even darker than his usual glare. His eyes seemed to narrow further as he regarded the female marketing rep.  He paused, opened his mouth as if to speak, then spun sharply and continued to his room.  Van frowned at his friend's behavior.  

"Is something wrong?"

The president of GLLC stopped in his tracks, his head bowed as he called out over his shoulder.  "I'm fine."

"Are you sure nothing's wrong, Heero?" Hitomi's voice rung out, sounding calm despite the hostile atmosphere.  "Maybe there's something…"

"What business would call your boss to Seattle on a Saturday?"

"What?"

Heero shifted where he stood and slowly turned to face the young woman.  "What business would call Relena to Seattle? What is it she can do that your CEO stationed IN Seattle can't handle?  I thought he flew back there this morning."

"He did," Hitomi answered.  "Maybe it was something she needed to handle in person.  I… you mean she didn't tell you?"

"I didn't get a chance to ask.  She's on her way to the airport right now."

Hitomi shook her head..  "Then I wouldn't know.  We have a number of Seattle accounts…"

Van interrupted. "But what about-"

"…that Relena handles personally, and Milliardo prefers it that way." 

The marketing VP scratched his head.  "her brother…."

"Will be retiring and leaving the company to Relena soon," Hitomi added.  "It's not common knowledge, and I shouldn't even be telling you this, but…it'll happen in the next year or two, depending…"

"Depending on what?" Heero cut in.

"Er…a number of economic factors, and how quickly she adjusts to the added responsibility."

Heero crossed his arms as he further interrogated the account rep.  "The man's not even thirty and he's retiring?"

"Yes."

Van watched his friend's jaw tighten, uncertain of what might come next.

"Pathetic," Heero spat.  "Relena has to work twice as hard so he can take off and spend the rest of his life on a permanent vacation." He whirled around and stalked off, disappearing into his room.  The door slammed behind him.

"You don't understand…."  Hitomi trailed off.  Silence settled over the apartment and she seemed to wilt where she stood.

Van breathed a heavy sigh and moved to her side.  "I'm sorry.  I…he and Zechs have never gotten along."

Hitomi blinked up at him. "Zechs?"

"Oh, Milliardo, I mean," Van laughed.  "In high school, his nickname was Zechs."

"Huh.  What did it stand for?"

Van smirked.  "It didn't stand for anything, really, it was a nickname given to him by the cheerleading squad."

"I don't think I want to know, then."

 "Yeah.  Heero used to call him Retch."

Hitomi frowned.  "That's not very nice."

"You didn't hear what he called Heero."

 "Don't think I want to know that either."

Van found himself chuckling, in part at her remark, and also at the very cute amused expression on her face.  "I'd say stay, and we could maybe continue our…discussion.  But with Heero here, it's probably not the best of ideas."

"Walk me home, then?"

Van's eyes darted towards the master bedroom where the storm had touched ground and was either dissipating – not likely – or gathering force behind that closed door.  It probably wasn't such a bad idea to leave, and it would give him some time alone with Hitomi.  He nodded once and gave her a small smile. She responded by tucking her arm into his and a pleasant warmth invaded his body.  

_This is not good. His more logical side whispered into his consciousness, causing him to stiffen momentarily at the contact.  He looked down and saw her smile again, her eyes sparkling with something he didn't have the presence of mind to name.  He felt himself turn into some sort of mushy, illogically happy thing as logic checked out and his mouth turned up into an answering grin._

            "My pleasure."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

113th Street

Uptown NYC

"Hey, is it starting to snow?  The weather reports were calling for flurries, but that looks like… good grief, what is that weird guy outside doing?  He's been standing there for a half hour – he must be freezing!"  Meryl turned her attention away from the man outside window and sipped her coffee, watching from her corner of the booth as her companion blissfully downed the remainder of the first dozen.  "Are you after some kind of world's record?  I have never seen a human being consume that many donuts at once.  It just isn't normal.  You're obviously feeling better."  

"Sure am.  Your soup fixed me right up, reporter girl, thanks again."  Vash lifted his head and called out to the baker behind the counter.  "Mick, my good man!  Another box of the glazed for me and a chocolate sprinkled for the lady!"

"Coming right up, Mr. Vash!  Got some fresh ones in the back for ya – just a couple of minutes til I pull them out of the fryer!"

Vash grinned and turned back to Meryl.  The reporter felt a rush of heat in her cheeks and hoped the software tester hadn't noticed her staring at him.   She began toying with her pencil as she held it poised over her notebook, forcing herself to think only of the business at hand.

"Ok, time to hold up your end of the bargain.  So… how's that pact of your going?" she inquired, ready to make notes.

"Hey, none of that goes on the record, you know that!"

Meryl sighed, and slowly set her pencil on the table, raising her hands in a show of submission.  "Ok, off the record…"

Vash's lip quivered.  "… It's terrible!  Van's such a grouch; Quatre seems depressed all the time.  And Heero."  Vash shuddered.  "There is NO living with Heero.  Fortunately he hasn't been around much lately."

"Oh, working hard on the PCC contract negotiations?"

Vash grinned again.  "Yeah, I guess you could say that.  Hey, do you need a refill?" he asked.  It seemed to Meryl that he was a bit too anxious to change the subject.  The reporter raised an eyebrow, but silently slid her cup across the table to be scooped up in Vash's nimble fingers.

"Decaf, two sugars," she reminded him.  He nodded and made his way up to the counter where Mick kept the coffee pots 

The bell on the door sang out, allowing the cold, howling air to sweep through the warm little shop.  Wet soles of heavy boots squeaked and slid across the tile floor in a slow progression, and Meryl's eyes followed their less-than-respectable-looking owner.  She watched him fumble in his coat pocket and was sure she saw the distinctive outline of a weapon.  The dark-haired woman paled, not uttering a word when Vash returned with their coffee.

"Here ya go," he smiled, taking a seat.  "Hey, I wonder where Mick got to with those… What's wrong?"

"It's that man," Meryl whispered, pointing over Vash's shoulder.  

"What, what m-?"

"Shhhhhhh!  The man from outside.  I think he's got a gun.  Just be quiet and don't call attention to us."

Mick reappeared from the kitchen with a fresh tray, and turned to greet the new arrival across the counter.  "Evening, sir.  What can I do for ya?"  

A tarnished revolver greeted the shop's owner.  "The register.  Empty it."

"Oh my God a gun!" Meryl felt her blood run cold as Vash leapt over the table and began pounding his fists on window beside their booth, garnering strange glances from passers-by. "We're gonna die!  Mick's being robbed!  Help!  Help… somebody!"  

_He's going to get us shot!_

"Shut up over there!"  The stranger's voice rasped across the room, grating over them like sandpaper.  Vash froze, then slinked over the bench to sit beside Meryl.  

"Way to _not call attention to us," she hissed._

The reporter watched Mick fumble with the register, and shifted her gaze to the intruder, noting how the man's arm shook while he clasped the firearm in his trembling grasp.  Greasy hair clung to his wind-burnt cheeks, a tattered baseball cap obscured most of his face.  

The elderly baker banged on the register drawer.  "It… it's stuck," he choked out, raising watery eyes to the would-be robber.

"I'm not buying it old man."  A click resounded through the room as the gun was made ready to fire.

 Meryl's fingers dug into Vash's shoulder, and her voice wavered as she spoke.  She knew she had to do something before the situation got any worse.

"Sir, you don't have to do this.  Please!  Just tell us what you need and we'll try to help you."

Vash nodded.  "Right, just tell her what you need and she'll try to help you."

"Thanks a lot for the back-up, Braveheart," Meryl mumbled, delivering an elbow to Vash's ribcage.  

 "Ow, hey that-"

"Of all the guys to be with during a robbery!" Meryl thought with a shake of her head.  "At least I know he won't be trying anything stupid and heroic…"

"Hey, mister, would you like some coffee?"

The gunman and Meryl both stared open-mouthed at the lanky man who slowly rose from his place at the table, walking purposefully toward the counter.  Mick's hand dropped from the stubborn cash drawer.

"Coffee?"

"Yeah, it sure is cold out there," Vash smiled, pouring a large cup of the steaming liquid.  "Um, looks to me like you definitely need the decaf variety, my friend.  Anyway, why don't you warm up and then we can take care of business?  After all, you're going to have to make your getaway, aren't you?  Might as well fill up!  And ooh, here, have a donut – they're delicious!"

Their aggressor seemed to be thinking it over for a moment, the fingers of his free hand flexing as if contemplating whether or not to reach out for what he was being offered.  Suddenly he stiffened, and Vash was soon face to face with a pistol.  "I know what you're up to."

The software tester set the coffee down and took a step back.  "Hey, I'm not up to anything.  I just smelled those fresh donuts and thought it would be a shame to let them get stale."

The robber squinted.  "Are you some kind of idiot?"

Vash stood his ground.  "Yeah, I guess I must be.  But I'm not the one ready to shoot a man over a couple of dollars in a cash register."

Meryl's breath caught in her throat.  What was he doing?  Five minutes ago he was clawing at the window and now he was insulting the gunman?   _'I thought he was just a coward – but he really is crazy.'_

The robber's finger twitched on the trigger in time with the short, nervous breaths escaping his mouth.  "I can't… I can't… Shut up!  You don't know anything!  You don't know what it's like for me!"  His whole body quaked and the gun swayed in his weakening clutches.

The taller man took another step forward, his hands still in the air.  "Is it so bad that you would want someone to have to die over it?"

Vash's tone was serene and free of mocking.  Meryl lifted her gaze from the shaking pistol and studied her companion's face.  There was… something… in his eyes, in his expression.  He seemed to somehow understand this frightening and desperate man.  

Before Meryl could blink, those eyes were looking her way.

            "Please, hand me my coat."

            She hesitated, staring at him dumbly as if she didn't understand the words he was speaking.  Vash repeated his request, and she inched towards the edge of her seat, wondering what he was planning to do. 

            "Stop!  Don't move!"  The agitated stranger lunged forward, leveling the pistol just inches away from blond's chest.  Vash slowly reached out for the garment hanging beside their table.

            "You're going to have to trust me, friend.  I trust you." 

Keeping one eye on the gunman, Vash slowly rifled through one of the pockets, pulling out his wallet.  He opened the billfold, counting the last of this month's "allowance."

"Here.  It's three hundred and four dollars…" he bit his lip and rummaged in his pants pocket, "and thirty-eight cents.  More than I know ole Mick keeps around here after dark.  Now, it's yours either way.  You can shoot me and take it, but then you'd be a criminal.  Or you put down the gun, take it as a gift, and go to sleep with a clear conscience tonight.  What do you say?"

"You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

The stranger stepped forward, grabbing the fistful of bills.  

"Well, if you didn't have that crazy hair and weren't wearing a shirt that said: 'Gamers Really Know How To Use Their Joysticks,' maybe I could take you a little more seriously."  The gun dropped at his side as he turned to the door.  "Pleasure doing business with ya."

The bell jingled to signal his departure, and Vash collapsed on the nearest stool, letting out a long breath.  "I think the robber-guy just insulted me…"  He looked down at his empty wallet.  "Aww man, what am I gonna do for the next two weeks?  Guess I can always ask Quatre for a loan.  Van would charge me interest…"

"Just what the hell were you thinking you… lunatic?!  Meryl shouted, grabbing him by the collar.  

Vash stuck out his lower lip.  "Hey, is this any kind of reward for the guy who just stopped a robbery?"

"You could have gotten killed – or gotten us killed!  How could you-"

"Well, I think he's quite the hero!" Mick beamed, slapping Vash on the back.  "I'm mighty grateful to ya, son!  A free dozen a day, how does that sound?"

            "Now that's better!"

            Meryl stamped her foot.  "Will one of you call the police?!  That derelict is still out there roaming the streets!"

            "I think he was just a guy down on his luck is all," Vash offered, sliding his fingers towards the new tray of donuts.  "And think of the great story you've got now!  Software Mogul Defends Donuts – Making Streets Safe for Glazed."

            The reporter shook her head and reached for her own coat. "Well come on then, oh 'Defender of Donuts.'  You can walk me back to my hotel."

            "OK.  Well, better bundle up then.  Oh, and I'll need a few for the road!"

            "Yeah… a few dozen," Meryl mumbled as she pulled on her gloves.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

Metropolitan Museum of Art

"One of the charity projects that GLLC funded last year was a park in their names.  It might not be terribly original, but my mother had always told me to leave a place more beautiful than I found it, so I thought it was fitting.  There are lots of trees and flowers, and a butterfly house.  I think she would have liked it."

"Why Mr. Winner – Quatre.  I had no idea that you'd lost your parents."

"It's not something most people know.  The guys, well, we were friends growing up, so of course they knew.  But we managed; my sisters always took good care of me.  I hope that wherever my parents are, that they're proud of me."

Their footfalls echoed loudly in the nearly deserted hallway and Quatre could see a hint of a smile forming on Dorothy's lips.

"I'm sure they are."

"And if your father could see you now, Miss Dorothy, I'm sure he'd be very proud of you, too."

The smile quickly faded.  "I had taken my bar exam just a few weeks before he died.  I didn't find out that I had passed until… afterwards.  I wanted more than anything for him to see that, those words on the page.  He was a lawyer, too.  It meant the world to him that I was following in his footsteps.

"He was killed last year – in the September 11th attack," Dorothy explained.  "It was just so...  No one has the right to chose someone else's fate for them.  To end people's lives like that, to use them and throw them away.  There is no justification for it, no matter what the cause."

 Her usually smooth voice cracked like the surface of a frozen lake in winter.  Quatre slid his arm around her shoulders, seeming to support her as they continued through the museum's winding corridor.

It had the feel of importance, the building.  As if the things housed with in it were sacred relics, and on many accounts, they were – probably for more reasons than he could imagine.  She slipped out of his grasp when the arrived in the main gallery, and walked briskly towards the far wall. 

"It's that one, right there.  They bought it when they were in Europe on their honeymoon.  It always meant a lot to him."

Quatre peered through the glass that shielded the rarer pieces of the exhibit, blinking at the mottled shapes roughly sketched on a yellowed and tearing leaf of antiquated paper.

"Why, it's very interesting, Miss Dorothy."  The CFO cocked his head to one side, trying to make sense of the rounded, interlocking figures depicted under the bright lights of the security case.   "Wedding Day sketch?  Pablo Picasso?"

Dorothy nodded.  "You can see there, the woman's veil."

"Oh, well – I think I can see it."  He squinted at the lines, still unable to make sense of them.

"They're melting into one another, becoming one at the moment of their marriage," Dorothy explained.  "The sentimentality of it surprised me, in the artist and in my father, but it seemed to touch them both deeply."

"Hm.  I thought Picasso was a terrible womanizer in his life time."

"He was," Dorothy acknowledged.  "The story that the art dealer told my parents that this was a sketch of the wedding of a woman he wanted, but couldn't have."

Quatre felt the blood drain from his face as he continued to stare at the piece of artwork.  "I wonder why…"

Dorothy traced the outline of the drawing with her finger that hovered over the glass, then turned her pale blue eyes on Quatre.  "I suppose there can be reasons, why two people can't be together.  Maybe she didn't love him, or wasn't willing to give up her station in life for a lowly artist.  But I think that most often, the reasons why people think they can't let themselves love someone are reasons they make on their own."

"But maybe some of the reasons are valid, Miss Dorothy," Quatre whispered.  His limbs began to feel heavy, as if the weight of his oath was dragging him down and threatening to leave him helpless and stranded.

"If you ever find one, Mr. Winner, I would be very interested to hear it."

"What about making a promise?  A promise not to let love be a distraction?"

"Is that how men see love?  As a distraction?" Her voice had turned from one of calm contemplation to a low, venomous hiss.  

"Miss Dorothy, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to – that's not what I…"

She sighed, but her expression didn't soften.  "Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. You have no need to apologize."

Quatre forced himself to meet her gaze.  "Yes I do.  All I was trying to say was that sometimes… there are reasons.  Real, solid, inescapable reasons why a man, a person, would be in love with someone – someone that might actually love him back – but still not be able to be with her, er, with the other person."

"But he would admit that he still loves her, even if only to himself?" Dorothy questioned.

"Well…"  Speaking had become painful and tiresome.  Every word that tumbled out of his mouth seemed to drain more and more of his energy.  "I suppose that he would."

"Then why," Dorothy demanded. "Would he let anything stand in his way?"

Her high-heeled shoes let her stand just taller than him. Quatre tilted his head back, lifting his eyes to the shower of silky strands that tickled his cheek and neck.

"There shouldn't be anything," he admitted, letting his eyelids drift closed as he breathed in the perfumed air lingering between them.  "But sometimes…"

The heat of her breath grazed his lips, and they ceased to move, seemingly of their own volition.  He heard the alarm, sounding clearly, ringing through his brain.  It told him to move back, to step away, but he ignored it – and waited.

"Excuse me, sir?  Ma'am?  You're too close to the artwork there, could you please back away?"

The guard moved closer and Quatre blinked, finally able to focus on the tall man's blue security uniform.

"Sorry…"

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

122nd Street

Van looked up into the small patch of sky that was visible between the tall buildings.  The lights of the city reflected off of the wintry clouds that swirled in the darkness above.  For once, everything seemed still and quiet, almost peaceful as he and Hitomi walked along.  

"It seems a shame to call it a night so early.  What will you do when you get back?"

            "Probably nothing, except listen to Heero gripe, or maybe watch something on cable.  I hope Vash took a long walk.  If he beats me back I'll probably get stuck watching another one of those Lifetime movies and sitting there while he cries his eyes out to Valerie Bertinelli being reunited with her long lost son or abused sister or kidnapped daughter or schizophrenic husband.  Take your pick."

            "I think it's sweet he cares so much."

            "Who Vash?  He's a total sap.  You should see him sob like a baby every time…"

            Hitomi smiled and shook her head.  "No, I meant Heero - about how hard Relena has to work.  You know…"

            "No.  Heero's just annoyed because this is dragging on too long.  He wanted to just veto it before we ever got the contract, but Quatre and I told him no.  We may not need PCC's server business, but we'd really like to have it.  If your preliminary estimates are in line, that's a pretty hefty increase we'll see next year."

            "Will you be coming to the debut at the MO-II fair?"

            Van looked down at her expectant expression and felt his shoulders slump.  "Uhhhhh…probably not, actually.  I think I'm in Seattle that week."

            "Oh.  That's too bad.  I'm in charge of giving the presentation."

            "Really?  That's impressive.  I would have liked to see it."

            She smiled up at him again, slightly tightening her hold on his arm as they stopped at a crosswalk.  "Would you like to…rent a movie or something?  We can watch it at my place.  Those cable movies are really awful."

            "Yeah, they are.  But I shouldn't, I mean…"

            "Why not?"

            Van remained quiet while they made their way across the intersection.

            _Yeah, why not?__ I mean, it's not against the pact to be friends with a woman.  And it's just watching a movie to avoid typhoon Yuy and another lonely night at the apartment._

            "You're right, it sounds like fun.  Where's the rental place?"

            She smiled at him.  "This is New York. There's one of everything just around the corner."

            He grabbed the handle to the frosted glass door and held it open for her.  The much warmer air coming from the inside embraced him like an old friend.  Van followed Hitomi over to the "New Releases" section.  One of the video covers caught his eye and he let a gloved hand gravitate towards its location on the shelf.

            "How about this one?"

            Hitomi scrunched up her nose as she read the title.  "Copper Primate?  What the heck is that?"

            "It's a Jackie Li movie."

            "Ugh, with all that martial arts fighting and stuff?  No way." She held up a small box.  "This one is excellent."

            Van shrunk backwards.  "How to Quilt an American Heirloom? What, is it an instructional video? Do you have your sewing machine on standby or something?"

            Hitomi pointed to the summary on the back of the cardboard cover.  "It's a movie about an old woman making a quilt with her granddaughter."

            "Oh, fascinating," Van mocked, grabbing an armful of videos as he spoke..  "Why don't we just rent My Life as a Dog, or this…Etched in the Heart?  Or better yet…this this…Keepsake."

            "Those are all supposed to be excellent," Hitomi nodded.

            "They all look like they suuuuuck."

            "Oh, well, let's look at your selections."  She snatched one of the tapes from the pile he held.  "Rumble at the Bronx Zoo, definitely intellectually stimulating, the Planet of the Baboons? I'm beginning to think you have a fascination with monkeys – perhaps you feel some sort of kinship?"

            Van narrowed his eyes.  "Funny.  Copper Primate is a story about a hero – like Robin Hood."

            "Robin Hood sounds much better," Hitomi argued, obviously still scanning the shelves.

            Van took the cassette back.  "This is Japan's version.  They couldn't very well use Robin Hood – it's English besides."

            A hand flew to her hip as she turned to face him. "Well, I don't feel like reading subtitles."

            He grudgingly replaced the movie and growled.  "Fine!  I don't feel like watching chick flicks about quilts and keepsakes and romantic crap."

            "And I don't want to spend the evening watching two guys beat each other to a pulp."

            Van took a slow, deep breath and fought to keep his tone low and even.  "Fine. Then what do you suggest?"

            She rounded a corner and led him to the "Classics" shelves.  "Dr. Zhivago."

            "No way.  Angsty love story, not happening."

            "All the King's Men."

            "Snoozer.  Borderline documentary.  And no political movies."

            Hitomi rolled her eyes.  "Fine, then YOU suggest something."

            Van crossed his arms.  "Nu-uh.  I just pick monkey movies, remember?"

            She smiled and shoved a tape into his hand.  "Fine, then we're watching this."

            "Love me or Leave me?" He read aloud.  "'The real-life drama of jazz age singer Ruth Etting and the evil-tempered gangster who orchestrates her climb to stardom. Received six Academy Award Nominations, including Best Actor--James Cagney….' James Cagney, huh?"

            Hitomi shrugged. "What can I say, I find the mafia fascinating."

            "Evil-tempered gangsters are good."

            "Uh-huh, so this is acceptable?"

            "I guess," Van conceded, making his way to the checkout counter.  "If it sucks, though, you owe me."

            "It won best motion picture," Hitomi pointed out.

            Van drummed his fingers on the countertop.  "That doesn't mean it won't suck.  Your quilting movie probably won some 'bored harpies' award."

            The young woman glared at him.  "That's it, you're paying for the movie, and buying me coffee and dessert after it's over."

            "If the movie doesn't suck," The VP insisted.  "If it's awful, you're buying."

            "I bought the pizza….Fine.  If it's awful, I'll buy coffee and dessert. But you're paying for the rental."

            Van unbuttoned his coat and pulled out his wallet.  "Ok, but we'll have to use your card.  I'm not exactly a member here."

She smiled and slid a piece of paper towards him.  "Well, now's a good time to join."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

Uptown New York

The wind had died down for the moment, leaving the uptown night calm and crisp in the chilly air.  Vash had quickly learned to tune out the noise of the traffic that roared in all directions and instead focused on a strange sense of anticipation that seemed to hover in the air.  More snow?  Or could it be something else?  The software tester felt an abrupt tug on his arm, and stopped.  She had come to a halt in the middle of the square, planting herself on the small concrete island that allowed pedestrians to do so.  Vash followed her gaze to the neon signs that blinked and danced above the billboards, never allowing the total black of night to fully settle in the purple sky above the city.

            "It really is so alive here," Meryl breathed, throwing her head back to further take in the glimmering skyline.  "This city truly does have a pulse – it's own energy.  I would say Seattle does, too, but it's different in New York.  Don't you think?"

            "I suppose so…" 

            "You're still thinking about him, aren't you?  That man?"

            Vash nodded slowly, following Meryl to the other side of the street.  "Yeah.  I could have ended up just like him, you know?"

            "What?  But you and the others founded GLLC while you were still in high school."

            "That's true.  We did."

            "Then why do you say that?"

            "Just because I founded a company doesn't mean I had it easy.  None of us did.  Now Quatre – his dad was an industrialist, built some kind of heavy logging machinery.  His folks died in a car crash when he was a teenager, but at least he had family – lots of sisters to help take care of him.  Van's parents are doctors.  They weren't around very much when he was growing up and when they were, they only really paid attention to his older brother.   Heero doesn't even remember his folks, his uncle pretty much raised him.  I guess we have Uncle J to thank,for all this. He got us into computers in the first place..."

            Meryl stopped and Vash finally looked up again.  He hadn't realized just how much distance they'd managed to cover as he told the reporter about his friends.  He stared at the doors, but turned back to the petite woman beside him when she made no effort to move nearer to the entrance. 

"What about you, Vash?"

            "Oh, you don't want to hear about me, reporter girl."

Meryl smirked.  "Nice try."

Vash felt the sad smile flash over his face, and he gulped in a breath of the cool air.  "I never met my parents. My real ones.  I lived in too many foster homes to count, state homes, orphanages when I was a kid.  Some of the people who took care of me were nice, and some weren't, so I mostly took care of myself.  But I never got too attached to anyone, because just when I did, that's when I'd have to leave.  That all changed when I was 14.  My freshman year of high school I got placed with a widow.  Rem Saverem.  

"She was beautiful and smart and the kindest person I ever met.  But she never took excuses and didn't let me get away with a thing.  Sometimes you remind me a bit of her, Miss Meryl.  And Rem taught me that life, even mine, was not to be wasted.  I lived with her for only a short time before she got sick.  Cancer… she was so young, too.  And by that time I had met the guys.  They didn't care who I was, or that I didn't have any family.  They wanted to be my friends regardless.  That's why I stick by them… grouchy and difficult as they can be.  They _are my family.  And that's what I wanted more than anything my whole life.  The money doesn't matter, and I could lose the company and still be fine just as long as I didn't lose my friends.  _

You don't let the people that matter to you go without a fight.  If it weren't for Heero, Quatre and Van… and Rem… well, who knows what I would have become."

            "I still think you would have turned out just fine," Meryl smiled.  "Still incredibly weird, but just fine."

            He chuckled and scratched his head before taking her arm and starting up the stairs and into the hotel lobby.  "You can have all that for the record."

            "Oh, how generous!  Can ask I just one more thing?"

            He opened the door and held it for her as she walked through. "Well…"

            "I promise it has nothing to do with the pact."

            "Ok, shoot."

            "For the record…"

            "Yes?"

"Just what is with the hair, anyway?" 

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Uptown NYC

            The tires screeched as the cab shot through a space that didn't appear to be large enough to fit a bicycle through and jerked to a stop at the curb.  To her credit, the corporate attorney didn't appear fazed in the slightest, but Quatre had to swallow part of his dinner a second time.

"So, you didn't have anything else that needed clarifying?"

            "No, Miss Dorothy.  I think that was the only question I had left.  Are you feeling better now?  Something to eat seems to almost always do the trick – just ask Vash."

            "Yes, much better."

            Quatre smiled, offering a hand as he helped her from the taxi cab.  She alighted gracefully to the curb in a flurry of blond and fur, still tightly clutching his arm.

            "Thank you for a wonderful evening, Miss Dorothy."

            "And thank you, Mr. Winner," she smiled back.  She seemed to shimmer somehow beneath the yellow streetlamp.  "I must say I enjoyed myself, museum alarms and all.  Would you care to come up for a cup of coffee, or maybe a drink?"

            He tried to pull his arm away, but she held fast.  "I really should get back, but thank you."

            "What's the rush?  Is Mr. Yuy waiting up for you?  I hardly see him as the mother-hen type."

            His skin was on fire, and he hoped she couldn't see the flush in his face as she stared at him.  "No, it's not that.  I just… I can't stay.  But please, let me walk you to the door."

            She sighed and nodded, accepting his arm once again and allowing him to lead her along the building's cement steps.  "Here you are, Miss Dorothy.  I hope that I'll get to see you this week at the contract signing.  Have a good-"

            The warmth of her fur coat encircled him, pulling him in.  Soft lips sealed themselves against his, cutting off the rest of his words and making him feel weak.  He melted into her arms, just like the roughly sketched figures in her father's drawing.  

            The night air rushed to greet him when she let go, grabbing hold and reminding him that he was no longer close to her.  "Good night, Quatre," she whispered.  He stood, frozen, watching her disappear into the building's paneled lobby.

            He dragged his feet, holding a hand over his lips as if he could keep the kiss from fading, to keep the pang of loneliness from invading his heart for just a few seconds longer.  

Quatre settled back into the cab, mumbling his address for the man in the front seat.  The driver nodded his understanding, beady eyes glinting in the rearview mirror until turning around to face the man in the back.

            "You turned down a woman like that?  Are you crazy pal?"

            Quatre sucked in a breath of air, raising his head to acknowledge the vaguely familiar voice.  He was unable to answer, however, when the cab suddenly darted out into traffic and sped along to a symphony of honking horns and angry shouts.  Quatre squinted and studied the face in the mirror.

            "I can't help but think I've seen you before," the blond confessed.  The man in the driver's seat snorted, then gave the wheel a sharp turn, sending his passenger sliding across the backseat.

            "Doubt it.  There are tons of cabs in this city."

            "I see."  Quatre sighed, grasping the bar on the door in a vice grip, watching Dorothy's building drift out of view as the taxi traveled down the narrow city street.  The cab swerved again, and the CFO stole another pitiful glance out the window, only to notice that they were still on the same street – and riding in the middle of the yellow line.

            He could just imagine Van's voice: _"Are the driving laws actually different in this city? Or did you all just miss the same question on the test?"_

            But the thought didn't make him smile.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Hitomi's Apartment

_            "The night doesn't question the stars that appear in the skies…."_

            "I wasn't expecting a musical," Van whispered to the girl sitting very near him on the loveseat.  He had been alternating between wanting to press closer, and trying to make himself draw away.  So far, close was winning as he glanced down at where her leg rested, barely brushing against his thigh.

            Green eyes darted up, the images and light from the screen playing across her face.  "It has Doris Day in it, how could you not expect her to sing?"

            "It's not a bad thing.  I like jazz music."  Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she glanced up at him.  He swallowed thickly, watching her mouth move in the dimly lit room.

            "She has such a pretty voice."

_            "I'll never stop loving you…"_

            "I…" His heart rate sped up and his head began to spin.  He moved nearer as her eyelids fluttered, and her breath no longer warmed his cheek.

            "RING!"  The telephone shattered the romantic air in the room, bringing him back down to earth.

_            Damn._

            "RING!"

            Hitomi seemed dazed as well and she stared in his direction, as if waiting for him to say something.

"I…guess you should get that," Van mumbled.

            "Yeah, I guess… I should."

The telephone sounded again, and Hitomi raced to the hall table where it rested.  "Hello? Rel!"

            Van sighed and sunk back into the couch.  

            "No, yeah, I heard.  Heero came back looking pretty perturbed about the whole thing."

            He could see her silhouette in the corner of his vision.  He felt his head spinning again and tried to tell himself that maybe it was all a dream – that he had dreamt the whole night, and that when he finally woke up, the feelings that he was trying so hard to deny would be gone along with the vision, along with her.

            "No, no, I'm sure he understood," Hitomi spoke into the receiver.  "He just didn't know…No, I didn't…er, well, Mr. Fanel is here going over those figures with me."

            Loud shouting and gunshots chose just that moment to blare from the television screen.

            "The figures and a James Cagney movie.  No, I know."

            He noticed her voice became more hushed as she went on.  "So, how is…"

            "Huh! Oh God, Rel" Van sat up straight at the alarm that was evident in her voice.  "…Just stay there as long as…Dorothy and I can…No, but, Rel some things are just…No, I guess not.  I'll see you Tuesday then.  Be careful.  Love you.  Okay, bye."

            Hitomi wove her way slowly around the living room furniture and Van stood up.  "So, I guess you got the scoop."

            "Yeah, that was Rel.  She was still on the plane."

            "She wouldn't have told Heero even if he had asked, would she?"  He looked down and saw light reflecting strangely off her cheek.  His eyes widened as she ducked her head and he found himself winding his arms about her small frame.  "What can I do?" Van asked in a hushed voice.

            "Nothing.  It'll be all right.  It will…If I just keep telling myself…"

            "What's wrong?  Hitomi, can't you tell me?"

            Her body began to shake and he tightened his hold.  "No, I can't Van. I would, really, I would…"

            His mind raced – what could possibly upset her this much?  And it had to be something to do with work, judging from the way Relena had to rush of to Seattle.  Perhaps the company was in some kind of trouble…

"Have you tried a loan?  I mean, certainly PCC's assets would be…"

            Hitomi stiffened.  "It's not about money, Van."

            Van nodded. "Well, yeah, after the restructuring done last year, I wouldn't expect it to be.  Though we were all surprised when the Peacecraft family pulled its resource backing of the company."

            "What Relena lost in support from the executives and board of directors, she gained in PCC's stockholders and Wall Street analysts."

            "Then what is it?  If it's an account, I know people in Seattle.  I could talk to…"

            She drew out of his embrace, shaking her head as she stepped back.  "It's nothing like that Van.  It's just that… Sometimes…things happen, life happens and it has no logical explanation.   All we can do is the best we can…and pray for the rest."

            "Do you want me to stay?" He asked, cursing himself as soon as the words passed his lips.  He knew that he shouldn't, but he hoped that she would want him to.  The answer he wanted to hear was also the answer he feared.

            "That's very sweet, Van, but I… I think I'd just like to be alone for a little while.  I'll have to go into the office tomorrow and get some work done – I have to do what I can to help Relena."

            "I understand."  He tried to smile as he picked up his coat and followed her to the door.

            "I had a nice time tonight, Van.  And I guess I owe you a movie."

             He stepped into the hallway, feeling suddenly exposed upon stepping into the light while she remained in the shadows of the darkened apartment.  "I liked it, actually. Doris Day can sing for me anytime.  I guess I owe you some coffee and dessert."

            "I'll be looking forward to it."  She smiled up at him, and her expression was sad, but sincere.  He knew he had to look away, or else he'd want to kiss her.   "Good night, Van."

            "Goodnight, Hitomi."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

116th Street, Outside the Lions Gate Apartments

            Vash moved along the midnight streets, clutching the thin paper sack of donuts as if his life depended on it.  They were probably frozen and stale inside it, but he needed something to cling to on this cold and lonely march back to the apartment.  He held on to it so tightly that his fingers were numb, along with his cheeks from the winter weather.  The lights in the neighborhood had dimmed by now, offering little more than wan, melancholy illumination as he neared the Lions Gate building.

            Meryl… he knew it was going to happen, somewhere in the back of his mind.  From the moment he stepped onto the elevator, insisting that he see her to the door of her hotel room, that it would give him a chance to thaw out.  Before that, even.  It could have been the way she looked at him when she surprised him on the street, or how she clung to him during the ordeal at the donut shop – maybe the compassion in her eyes when she listened to him talk about how he grew up.  Whatever it was, it meant trouble.

_            "Mr. Vash, I'm fine – really."_

_            "Reporter girl, I couldn't sleep unless I knew for sure you were all safe and snug in your room.  Besides, it'll let me warm up since I'm not counting on the heat being on when I get home."_

_            "Fair enough."  _

_The elevator chimed, announcing their arrival on the 4th floor.  Meryl's keys jingled in her loose grasp and Vash followed closely, nearly knocking her over when she stopped abruptly in front of room #418._

_"Oof!  Mr. Vash-  Mr. Vash?"_

He was done for.  He'd stretched out his long arms to steady her, but instead of taking them back, he soon found them curled tightly around her petite figure, pulling her near.  

_Her hand came up to rest against his cheek and he burrowed his chin and nose into its warm softness, inhaling the mix of winter air and perfume.  He bent down, his lips searching for hers, but instead, he was greeted with the force of a sharp slap on the opposite side of his face._

_"Mr Vash!"_

_"Reporter girl?"__  His fingers came up to touch the stinging skin as he blinked down at the dark-haired woman before him._

_"I can't let you do this, Mr. Vash.  You signed that pact."_

_"But Miss Meryl.__  I would give it all up in a second if I knew that you-"_

_"Knew that I what, Mr. Vash?  I've seen you around women – you're hopeless.  Why should – what is there that makes me any different?"_

_Vash__ swallowed hard.  "I…"_

_Meryl__ cut off any possible answer.  "That's what I thought.  It's… It's just those raging hormones of yours taking over and that's all.  You've overcome so much in your life.  I won't let you lose it now.  Not over… not over me.  Good night, Mr. Vash, maybe I'll see you next week."_

She disappeared behind the powder blue door, and he didn't know how long he'd stood there just staring at it before he loped slowly down the hallway and put a finger to the lighted elevator button, just as he did now after making his way home.

He found the apartment door unlocked, and it creaked open.  All he wanted in the world right now was sink into that uncomfortable sofa bed and lose consciousness in their not-quite-but-almost-as-cold-as-outside apartment.

"And where have you been?" Heero's voice barked, startling Vash from his thoughts. 

"What?  Boss?  Van, Quatre – what are you guys still doing up?"

"We couldn't sleep," Quatre spoke up between sips of tea.  "We were just wondering where you'd gotten to.

"Well, I…" _What should I tell them? Van's brown eyes flashed up, giving him a half plea/half warning._

_Apparently not the truth.__ "I, uhhhh…"__ Think, brain, I need a story!  "I… went for a walk.  Nice night and all…"_

"You ran into that reporter, didn't you?" Heero scowled at him from his crossed- arm, leaning-back-against-the-wall, but still-menacing position across the room.  

And he looked even meaner than he usually did, which meant…_Things did not go well with Relena.  Damn.  His shoulders slumped, then he remembered he was being given the third degree. "Well, you see, it's – she ran into me!"_

"You didn't tell her anything did you?"

Vash gulped.  He knew he was a rotten liar.  "Uh…  Did I mention that I was almost killed this evening?"

Heero raised an eybrow. Quatre continued to drink tea and Van made a face.

The software tester cleared his throat and began his tale.  "I was at Mick's down the street, just minding my own business and enjoying a couple boxes of donuts…"

"Was the reporter with you?" Van asked.

"Well, yeah, but that's besides the-"

Heero's scowl deepened.  "Vash, we signed a…"

"I know, boss, I know.  It wasn't a date!  Come on!"

"Hn."

 "Anyway – we were sitting there and all of a sudden this crazy guy came in with a gun and demanded that Mick empty the register or else!"

"Oh yeah right." Van scoffed.

"I'm serious, Van!"

Quatre's eyes widened.  "So what did you do?"

Vash sniffed and stood up straight, giving his chest a manly thump and deepening his voice.  "Well, I got right up there and defended those kruellers with my life!"

"How?"

"I, uh… I kinda gave him all the money I had so he would put down the gun and leave.  Hey, Quatre, can I get loan?"

The three other GLLC officers groaned and pushed back their chairs, leaving the kitchen and heading towards the hall.

"Guys?"

"What, were you out all night thinking that one up?" Van mocked.

Vash stared at his friend.  "No!  It really happened!  Honest!"

"It was a good story, Vash, really very entertaining." Quatre smiled and patted Vash's shoulder on his way out.

"But Quatre!  It's the truth!  Heero?"

Heero paused in the doorway and rolled his eyes at his friend.  "Not a chance, Vash."

"B-but… you guys?"

Three doors slammed in unison.

"Guys?  Awww, man."

A small set of green eyes glowed from their place on the sofa bed and the lone man walked over, scooping up the purring ball of fur.

"You believe me, don't you kitty?"

The tiny cat cuddled closer to his chest and fell asleep.  "At least somebody does." His hand stroked the black fur of his sleeping companion as he stared down the hallway at Van's closed door.  "Some friends…"


	10. “Maybe your computer has a virus It doe...

**Love's Labours Lost**

By Stella and the Black Rose

AN: YAY! Another chapter! Only five more to go! *hugs* to everyone still with us, thank you so much for your support. We sincerely hope you will enjoy it!!!!

Disclaimer: Bandai owns GW and Escaflowne. Pioneer owns Trigun. We own….erm, these nice shoelaces and a clock, and….

Chapter 9

Heero rolled out of bed Sunday morning, and silently thanked the powers that be for the heat still being on. The company president groaned as he stood up and tried to lift his mind out of the fog of sleep. He scowled at the calendar hanging on the wall and thought about the events of the day before – trying not to dwell on the kiss he had received. The fact that she had seemed apologetic about the incident didn't relieve his mind the least bit. If anything, it darkened his mood even more.

"Business," Heero muttered. "This is just business. Contract… Addendum. I need to find that addendum." He flung open the door and stomped out of his room.

Vash stood in the kitchen, finishing off a ridiculously huge bowl of cereal and letting Kitty lap the milk out of the bottom. "Good morning boss. Geez, you look happy."

Heero rifled through the unopened mail and supermarket circulars littering the countertop, but found nothing from PCC. He turned to the spiky-haired tester. "Have you seen an Addendum C?"

"To the PCC contract?"

"No, to the electric bill. Yes, to the damn contract."

Vash shook his head and smirked down at his friend. "Wow. Just when I thought Van had you beat in the grouch competition, you managed to really dig down deep and pull out the win." He leveled his cereal spoon in front of Heero's mouth like a microphone. "How does it feel to be a champion?"

The resounding clatter of silverware hitting the tile floor across the kitchen echoed through the apartment. "If you say another word besides 'Yes I've seen the addendum' or 'No I have not', you and the flea bag are going to go live in the stairway with the rat." 

Vash's shoulders slumped. "I haven't seen it, boss."

"Hn." 

Heero turned and stalked back to his room. Unmindful of the time, he picked up his cell and dialed Millie's number at home. Perhaps PCC had sent the addendum to the office and she hadn't forwarded it along just yet.

The connection crackled in his ear.

"Wolfwood." 

Heero's jaw dropped and he glanced at the display on his phone. It read Millie Home – so why was his chauffeur on the line? "Wolfwood? What the…"

"Oh it's you. You realize it's Sunday at 6:30 in the morning. Some of us like to sleep."

Heero gawked at his phone. He forgot the time difference, but no matter. He just wanted to talk to his secretary. "I thought you went to church on Sundays."

"I do, but not even the priest gets up at 6:30. And I prefer to go to the late service."

"Let me talk to Millie."

"She's asleep. Call back in a couple of hours."

"Wolfwood…. Put her on the phone."

The gruff voice growled in his ear. "Listen, Yuy, I've seen her paycheck, and no offense – you don't pay her enough to take your phone calls on a weekend much less at this ungodly hour of the day. So, call back on Monday when she's in the office."

"This is important."

"Then I think you ought to ante up some dough."

Heero groaned and fought the urge to just open the window and send the phone sailing to its doom. He almost smiled at the thought of the satisfying "crack" that it would make hitting the pavement from sixteen stories up. "Fine, I'll pay you a hundred dollars to let me speak to her right now."

The man on the other end of the connection snorted. "I mean salary-wise. She needs a raise. When was the last time you gave her an increase?"

"Hn. I don't…"

"That's because it was far too long ago. You're taking advantage of this sweet girl that worships the ground you walk on and does everything you ask – only to be shouted at and awoken at an indecent hour on her day off."

Heero rubbed a hand over his face. "I'll give her a ten thousand dollar raise if she'll stop sleeping with you."

Silence greeted his answer.

"I'm waiting, Wolfwood. Maybe you should wake her up and ask her what she thinks."

"Give her eight thousand and I'll let you talk to her right now. She deserves it, Yuy."

"Fine. I'll call into payroll tomorrow and have them make the change."

"That's more like it."

"But tell her I'll give her another two thousand dollar bonus to kick your ass out."

"Here, you can tell her yourself."

"Hello?" A sleepy feminine voice yawned into the phone.

"Millie, have you seen an addendum to the PCC contract? Was it sent to the office?"

"Oh hi, Mr. Yuy. How's New York City? Any better now?"

Heero could feel the creases deepen in his forehead. "Better than what? Never mind. Have you seen an addendum sent to our office from PCC?"

"Ummmm, not that I recall. But I sent a bunch of stuff to you the other day, it didn't get there yet?"

"No."

"Oh. That's strange. I was positive I sent it out on Wednesday. But I'm sure it will be there real soon."

"But you haven't seen an addendum," Heero pressed.

"Not that I remem-" She yawned again. "ber. Sorry."

Heero's shoulders slumped. "That's fine. I'm sure it just got lost in the shuffle."

"All right. Well, I'm going to get some more sleep, now. You should, too. Tell Mr. Vash…"

"Yes I know. You said hi."

She giggled. "Good night."

Heero hung up the phone and sunk back onto his bed. Where could that addendum be? Had Relena sent it at all? The software mogul frowned. "I'm sure it was just an oversight. But I need that section so I can sign the contract and end things with her." He flung an arm over his eyes and collapsed back into his pillows. 

_I wish there was an answer. I wish I could have known. If I could change the past, I would. I'd take that risk. _

_But this one's just too much._

* * * * * *

Heero awoke early Monday morning after a fairly uneventful Sunday evening. He got up, only to drop into the desk chair in front of his laptop and hit the space bar to wake it from its own sleeping status. He pulled up his email account, trying to ignore the little voice in his head that hoped Relena had sent him a message. _Today is the first day of the next two years, eleven months, 24 days, two hours and twenty-eight…Shit. Stop thinking about her! She is out of my life – or will be as soon as I can find that damn addendum and get this THING over with._

He scowled and opened his inbox, scanning the list of new mail. _Vacation notice, vacation notice, hnnnnn, looks like I'm going to have to place a call to HR and find out if these people are taking advantage of my being out of the office. He deleted the lot of messages, then noticed he was receiving another email. "Mailerdaemon, your message was delayed." He blinked. __What message? He clicked on it, wary that it was one of those viruses that were still circulating about, but his antivirus software didn't even hiccup._

"Your message to Relena.peacecraft@pcccorp.com has been delayed." He clicked on the attachment, wondering which message she hadn't received.

_ Relena,_

_ I think we've all had experiences that make us think twice about starting relationships. I say that not to make light at all of your particular situation, and I thank you for trusting me enough to share those things with me. If you only knew…. It scares me sometimes how well we seem to get along, but I am thankful for your friendship._

Heero's eyes widened as he continued to read. It sounded like…well, him, but he knew he hadn't written this to Relena. How on earth….?

_ I, too, have my own reasons not to rush into anything as far as romantic relationships go. Maybe it's predictable, but there are so many women out there that are just interested in the amount of money I make. The one that particularly comes to mind is the one that broke Van's heart – Millerna. She didn't even have the decency to pretend she wasn't using him. As soon as he introduced her…._

His jaw clenched tighter with each passing moment that he stared at the screen, reading the words again and again. Whoever had written this was impersonating him, sending Relena emails from his address, and telling her details of his personal life. Details that he considered very private. They knew about Millerna, so they had to be in the apartment. They had to have reason to want him out of the picture with Relena. They had to be….

"Vash." He said aloud, his hands gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. He bolted up from his chair; it fell over with a loud bang but Heero didn't even look backwards. He stood leaning over the table, trying to breathe and calm his angry pulse. _"I have my own reasons not to rush into anything as far as romantic relationships go…." _

"GOD DAMMIT VASH!" He screamed and chucked open the bedroom door, intent on murdering the software tester in his sleep. "No. I'll wake him up THEN kill him."

Heero stalked through the hallway, his voice booming over the open space and reaching its target a split second before he did. "You'd better call the police, Vash, because I'm about to commit a homicide."

The blond sat up in bed just in time for Heero to grab a handful of his t-shirt and slam him against the back of the sofa. "EEK! What the heck? Heero, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Why have you been sending emails to Relena pretending to be me?"

The green eyes grew wide and then darted away. "Uhhhhhhhhh, are you sure you didn't email her and just forget?"

"Positive."

"Maybe your computer has a virus. I've heard…"  
"It does. One with blond hair and green eyes. Tell me why you've been pretending to be me, or I swear when I get done with you, that rat will seem like your fairy godmother!"

"Dang, you're scary boss!"

"I'm not in the mood for games."

"When are you ever?"

"An explanation! Now!"

Heero loosened his grip and stood back. He crossed his arms and glared. Vash swallowed hard and took a deep breath. 

"I…I just…I wanted to keep her from getting hurt. I wanted to warn her, ya know, that seeing as we've made this pact and all, that you weren't interested in pursuing anything romantic with her. But then I couldn't tell her about the actual pact, so I told her about…"

"Millerna. I saw."

"Oh. Well, then you already know." 

"Why are you so interested in her feelings?"

Vash toyed with the edges of the blanket in his lap. "Well, um…that's a little tougher to…" He glanced up and then quickly away. "I like her. I think she's nice." The tester gave him a weak smile, slowly rising from the bed. "Why can't I send her an email, boss, and…"

Heero's hand caught the other man squarely in the chest and shoved him back down. "I don't have a problem with you emailing her, as long as it's about business and you sign your own FUCKING name to it, Vash!"

Blond spikes sagged beneath Heero's withering stare. "Boss? Look, I'm sorry. I didn't tell her anything bad. I just wanted to…"

"Wanted to what?" Heero snarled, pacing the room. "You revealed my personal information to someone who does not need that information. She is a business associate. She doesn't want or need the details of my private life."

"Maybe she does, boss. She wants to be your friend."

The GLLC president froze in mid-step, finding Kitty's water dish – and Kitty – in his path. In a swift motion, the ceramic bowl cracked against a nearby cupboard, sending the tiny black cat scurrying towards its owner on the sofa. 

"I don't want her to be my friend! I want to sign the contract and get on with my life. That's all."

Vash reached out for the nervous ball of fur, cuddling it under his chin. Two sets of green eyes turned on Heero. "With all due respect, I think you're making a mistake."

"I don't make mistakes. You, on the other hand, if you ever do this again, I'll charge you with identity theft and force you out of the company. Is that clear?"

The taller man gained his feet, but Heero turned his back, stomping his retreat down the hall. 

"I used to think it was the bourbon that made you mean." Vash's voice called out from behind him.

Heero whirled around and slammed the door to his room with a loud bang. The sound was satisfying, the feel of the hard wood a comfort to his fingertips. He pulled it open and threw it shut again. And again. The walls rattled. It felt sinfully good to abuse the oak panel. He paused for a moment when he heard the front door open and pound shut. Heero peered out into the living room, noting that Vash and the kitty were nowhere to be found. Guilt nipped at his stomach until the software mogul ruthlessly dismissed the emotion without pay. _I have every right to be angry. _

A sleepy voice called out from the other side of the apartment. "What on earth is going on out there? Where's Vash?"

"None of your business," Heero spat and gave the door a final slam. 

He stayed in his room until it was time to go to his eleven o'clock class, and by that time, didn't feel like going at all. Heero grumbled as he picked up his books, tossing them into his briefcase and dragging himself towards the living room. He shrugged into his nice, warm coat Relena had given to him on Saturday and tried to block out the remembrance of her soft lips on his. He scowled and wished he had his own, albeit not as warm jacket from before. Every time he even looked at this one he was cursed with memories – of lying next to her, the scent of her hair filling his nose as he drew her back into his embrace….

Heero shook it off and mumbled something about how throwing his jacket overboard was destruction of personal property. "Maybe she and Vash do deserve each other." He stepped into the hallway on his way to attend his first half-day of classes.

The frowning executive shuffled into the elevator checking the time and watching the lighted numbers fade in hypnotizing succession. His peaceful monotony was broken when the car jolted, stopping at the seventh floor. A cheerful looking older man nodded at the other passenger before moving inside. Heero glared at the unsuspecting neighbor who dared to cross the threshold. He didn't take the hint.

"Hey there, sonny. Still pretty cold out. I can't wait for the spring and warmer temperatures can you?"

"Hn."

"You guys just moved in, right? I saw you hauling your bags up when I was in the lobby last week. Where are you from?"

Heero expelled an annoyed breath. "Seattle."

"Wow. Well, I bet it's not any warmer there, huh?"

"Hn."

"So is it just you four guys, then? Did you move here for business, or do you have girlfriends in town? Ehn?" He winked at Heero and nodded with a smile.

"Work. We're here strictly on business. Well, all but one of us, apparently."

The man chuckled. "Sounds like he's the smart one."

"Hn." Heero's black look darkened even more. The elevator chimed and the two men went their separate ways.

Back out in the frosty air of the city his mind wandered avenues of places he didn't want to go. Relena was…everything he could have asked for in a woman. Smart, beautiful, pleasantly challenging…responsible, pragmatic, the list went on. In a fairly short time, they had seen a lot of one another. And no, they hadn't gotten along a hundred percent of the time, and no, they didn't agree on everything, but she had still managed to awaken feelings in him that he hadn't really ever felt before. It was strange, unsettling, and yet comfortable at the same time. All other things being equal, he wouldn't have hesitated – even if dating and pursuing a woman's affection wasn't something with which he was terribly experienced. 

But all things weren't equal. He had a company to be responsible for – thousands of people depended on his leadership, his decisions, to continue to be able to provide for their families. Millions of people worldwide depended on him and his product to run their businesses, complete their homework, and even to do things like perform laser surgery. _Great, I'm sounding like one of Van's commercials. _

He had a responsibility. He couldn't just give up and say oh, this is hard, and I want something else now, then run out of the apartment to chase after his libido. HE couldn't do that. 

_Damn you, Vash, what happened to loyalty? _

_* * * * * *_

_He watched with trepidation as the storm accumulated over land. He knew it had to be devastating to Van, but- _

_"Dammit, Heero, what happened to loyalty? I can't believe you-you-"_

_"Van, I'm telling the truth."_

_"No! No, you're not! You're jealous, that's what it is, isn't it? I'm getting married, and I'm going to be happy, and you just can't stand it!" He stamped his foot into the ground, both fists balled at his sides. Heero was instantly reminded of Van's temper tantrums when they were still kids._

_"Van, stop acting like a child."_

_"Then you start acting like a friend!"_

_Heero__ flinched. "I AM!"_

_Quatre__ gulped before jumping to Heero's defense. "Van, we're all sorry, but we saw her flirt-"_

_"Flirting isn't cheating. It doesn't mean she'd…"_

_Vash__ finally stood from his chair, turning a compassionate expression towards their ailing friend. "Van, I didn't want to tell you this, but I saw her last week, getting into the car with some other guy. At first, I thought he might be a friend or something, but then she kissed him. I was so angry! There she was, getting into the car you bought her, and kissing some other guy! I should have told you…I just didn't know how."_

_Van paled. "You're all liars!"_

_"Van!__ If you want to believe that, then go right ahead. But I'm not going to participate in this wedding, and I'm not going to be there to bail you out when she's cleaned out your bank account and run off with someone else." The software mogul spun on his heel and stalked across the room. _

_"Wait, Heero, if Van-"_

_But he was already out the door._

_Hours later, he got the call at his office to go find the reluctant bachelor. Fists flew, and then tears fell. Heero wished Van didn't have to suffer. But Millerna had really sunk her claws in deep if the marketing VP was questioning his friends' loyalty. _

_A quiet knock sounded at the door an instant before Vash let himself in. Van didn't seem to notice._

_"I'm never dating again." Van downed another shot of tequila._

_"Hn."_

_"She lied to me."_

_"Yes."_

_"And I was the fool for believing her."_

_"It happens," Vash piped up._

_"Thanks." Van poured another shot from the bottle as Vash took a seat beside him on the couch. _

_"Van, there are things worth having in life, people worth knowing and sharing things with you don't normally share with the rest of the world. Millerna isn't one of those people. She's selfish and greedy, and doesn't know what it means to care about someone."_

_"So, what do you suggest?"_

_"It's simple, Van." Heero stood up and moved towards the door. Vash was better at comforting than he was, so it was best he just head home while there were still a few hours left to sleep in. "Find the one that does."_

_* * * * * *_

**Uptown NYC**

"Please, reporter girl. Come on, I'm really in a bind here – I can't take him to class with me. Think of what happened at the restaurant."

The crack of a blue hotel door opened further to reveal Meryl Stryfe, wrapped only in a towel and still dripping from a shower. Vash fought to keep his gaze level with hers and not allow his eyes to trail down to the knotted terrycloth right above the swell of her-

"Why didn't you just leave him at home?" The reporter narrowed her sharp hazel eyes from her hiding place behind the door. "And why the heck are you wandering the streets in your pajamas at 10:30 in the morning in the dead of winter with a kitten?"

Vash sighed, feeling the corners of his mouth turn downward. "It's a long story. Let's just say that Heero found out about my lousy typing skills and wasn't too pleased."

Meryl pressed her lips together, the confusion obvious on her face "Lousy typing? What are you- Oh my god! I thought you were kidding the other night. You mean you really have been e-mailing Relena?"

"Well you see, reporter girl… Ehhh…"

A petite set of arms crossed over the damp towel. A bare foot impatiently tapped on the carpeted floor. "Out with it, Vash."

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, tucking Kitty under his arm and settling himself against the doorframe. "Ok, it's like this. I think the boss has a thing for her – and that she feels the same about him. So when I caught them exchanging e-mails, I thought – what could it hurt? I might be able to help them along, or at least save her some heartache if the Grump King decided that he was going to stick to the pact. Only he didn't see it that way."

"And?"

"He had a little tantrum this morning. You didn't hear him yelling at me all the way over here?"

"Can't say that I did. But you should have expected him to be absolutely furious if he found out." Meryl tucked a wet piece of hair behind her ear and readjusted her covering. Vash squeezed his eyes shut, avoiding the tempting sight.

"I know, I know. And I realize that it might not have been the best way to go about it, but I only wanted to help my friends. I just want them to be happy. And to tell you the truth, I don't think that he's mad because I was emailing Relena about him. I think he thinks I'm violating our pact."

Meryl threw him a skeptical glance.

"Seriously, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that Heero was mostly upset because he thought **I was trying to make a move on Relena. He's in love with her, Miss Meryl. I just know it. But he's too damn stubborn to admit it."**

"Then what are you going to do, Vash?"

"I wish I knew, reporter girl, I wish I knew. But right now I really have to get to class, so can you keep Kitty? Please?"

The dark-haired woman rolled her eyes and stretched out an arm, accepting the purring bundle.

"He likes to watch tv before lunch, then he takes a nap, but he can't go to sleep unless you scratch him under his chin for a couple of minutes. Oh, and be careful what show you turn on – no Tom and Jerry – he might get an inferiority complex watching the mouse outsmart the cat all the time. Oh! And his milk has to be just on the warm-ish side of tepid and-"

The reporter groaned and shook her head. "I think I can manage. See you in two hours?"

"Yeah. Thanks again, Miss Meryl. Guess I'm going to class in my pj's."

"Eh, don't sweat it. You'll fit right in. They look more normal than what you usually wear." The blue door closed in his face, a bit more gently than last time, and Vash let out a long breath as he meandered towards the elevator. "Columbia University, here I come."

* * * * *

**Columbia****University**

**Advance Computer Science Principles I**

Heero slammed his briefcase on the desk nearest to the heating vent and plopped down in the hard wooden seat. The interior of the aged brick building was what he'd expected it to be. Plain walls, off-white like the pages of an old book wrapped around him and reflecting what hazy sunlight the warbled ancient windowpanes allowed to filter through. Polished oak doors, worn and varnished too many times, guarded the entrance to the classroom and the small closet beside the pristine chalkboard. How many people have sat in this room over the years? How many great minds pondered the questions of the universe, deliberated and reached the conclusions that have shaped life as we know it? Columbia has been the school of presidents, Nobel prize winners, writers, scientists and geniuses. The atmosphere itself seemed important, learned, as if one absorbed knowledge by just being in it. The software exec felt his muscles relax. This is what he'd been waiting for. 

He turned his attention to the briefcase, removing his books, a notebook and pen as the door banged shut and the din of his classmates' conversations ceased. Heero's eyes followed a short, bearded man in a sport coat as he hurried to the front of the room, tossed a worn leather bag on the heavy, wooden desk and promptly hopped up beside it.

"Hello, people. I hope you've all had your morning coffee. I'm not one for prissy introductions or writing out little papers that tell you what I expect of you this semester. You're here to learn advanced programming. I expect you not to be morons. Let's jump right in, shall we? Since the lab won't be open until next week, we'll just have to talk theory for now – so answer me this: If you wanted to run Z/OS's word processing program, Word Zero, on Alliance-ware, what are the first basic changes you would make to the source code? You, in the back, wearing the suit. Where would you start?"

Heero sat up in his seat and just stared at the man, not quite believing the words he just heard. That had to be the stupidest question he had ever heard. "There's no reason to run Word Zero on Alliance-ware. If A-ware doesn't have its own program, that's their problem. Use Zero."

The professor sat back and snorted, launching himself off the desk. "It seems we have a Z/OS fan in our midst, ladies and gentlemen." Light chuckles resonated throughout the room. "And tell me, what's so great about Z/OS that makes it the end all and be all of computer operating systems? Is it the fact that a simpleton can use it? That it strips away all control people might have over their machines by integrating everything so that the users don't even have to think? They can just leave that to Yuy and GLLC and its programming gods out in Seattle, though after version 7.1 I don't know how much thinking they're doing out there."

Heero slowly rose from his seat, feeling his breath coming in short, even gasps. "I guarantee you most people don't want to think. They want to turn on their computers and work."

"Is that so?"

"That's what our market research shows."

The professor shrugged. "And how is it that you're such an expert, Mr…."

"…Yuy. Heero Yuy."

* * * * *

**Lionsgate**** Apartments**

_ Soap Opera, soap opera, talk show, talk show, talk show. Quatre sighed as he flipped through dozens of channels searching for something that wouldn't turn his brain to mush. Daytime television really made him want to be at work. _

The doorbell rang, offering brief respite. He paused his channel surfing to answer it, but Van beat him to the door.

"Package for a Mr. Yuy."

"I'll sign for it." Van took the electronic pen and tapped the pad.

"Thanks," the driver said and left.

Van let the door close behind him and gingerly placed the package on the table. Quatre walked over and peered down at the box. 

Van raised an eyebrow. "It's something from Millie."

The CFO let his fingers brush over the well-taped box, giving it a slight shake. "I know you're bored, but I wouldn't open it if I were you." 

Quatre nodded, gently setting the box back down. "Yeah. Wonder what's in there… But Heero should be back soon, I think."

Van's eyes flew to the door. "Great. Maybe we should leave."

"He's been in a bad mood lately, hasn't he?"

"Lately?" 

"Well, more than usual."

Van made a face. "I think you're giving him too much credit, Quat-" The television dialogue cut into their conversation.

"But Roger, what about my family?" 

Quatre and Van both turned towards the TV. A middle aged man stood in the center of the screen, his face set in a dark expression. The younger-looking blond woman hugged herself, her eyes seemingly filled with tears. Roger advanced towards her, and pulled the attractive woman into a loose embrace.

"Trixie, your life has been a lie." Roger's voice sounded in a hoarse whisper. 

Quatre wondered what kind of lie, and who had been telling them to her. She seemed so innocent.

"You owe it to yourself to find the truth."

Quatre nodded.

"But I can't just leave my husband and children to run away with you to an underground city. I need to think about it, first." 

"Ugh! Who writes this garbage?" Van hit the button on the remote to change the channel and headed back to the sofa. The CFO snapped to attention and charged back towards the television.

"Van! I want to know if Trixie is going to run away with Roger!"

The marketing director stared as his friend, then back at the screen. "You're watching this crap?"

"It's either this or 'my husband's a transgendered alien from the future' on the Harry Derringer show."

"I think the alien thing sounds better."

The door swung open like a clap of thunder, and the apartment seemed to grow darker as if a storm cloud had suddenly blown in from out of nowhere.

"Heero." 

"Van, Quatre?" His eyes found to the box on the table. "What's this?"

"The package you've been asking about.," the CFO explained. "It arrived about twenty minutes ago."

Van stepped forward, shoving the box at his friend in a swift, hasty motion. "We didn't open it."

"After your tirade this morning that chased off Vash, neither of us was willing to risk losing our stake in the company over the charge of felony mail theft."

"Your obvious attempt at guilt isn't working, Quatre."

"Guilt?" the blond blinked. "No one was trying to make you feel guilty, Heero. If you feel some amount of guilt, perhaps it's your subconscious telling you that you were wrong to treat Vash like that and you should be more considerate and make an effort to stop being such a grouch all the time. But as for any of us purposely trying to make you feel guilty...The thought never entered our mind." Quatre fidgeted under Heero's ruthless stare. "So, do you? Feel guilty?"

The company president reached for the package. "No."

"Oh."

"How was class?" Van cut in.

Heero opened the box, tearing brown paper and mangling the cardboard beneath it. His efforts were rewarded when he finally slid a manila envelope from the papery wreckage. His eyes hungrily devoured the page of company stationery attached to the front; he scowled and ripped it to shreds, muttering something under his breath. Quatre caught the words: "Idiot professors" and "couldn't program a Hello World java applet."

"That good, huh?"

Heero found an envelope and pulled a neatly stapled packet from inside. He sat down, flipping pages, his eyes skimming over the contents. Van shrugged and left the room. Quatre turned back to Trixie and Roger in 'Days of our Lies'. 

Trixie stood in the presence of another man on screen. One who was clearly not Roger. The CFO scowled at the interloper.

"Flint, you don't understand. When I was nineteen, Roger and I...well, we went to live in this underground city together. We were so happy...Until the amnesia set in."

A loud thud wrested his attention from the engrossing saga. He looked back to see Heero with his head cradled in his hands, elbows on the table and pages spread out all over the grainy surface. His lips were set in a grim line and a deep frown marred his features. Quatre opened his mouth to address his friend, but Heero shot up from his chair, grabbed his cell phone and stabbed a series of numbers.

"Miss Peacecraft's office."

The tone of Heero's voice made Quatre's blood run cold in his veins.

"Please, Heero. Do the right thing."

* * * * * *

**Pizzazz Deli**

**Uptown NYC**

There was something different about him; she noticed it right away. His posture was stiff, his shoulders tense, and his eyes were cold, detached…. She was staring at that picture of him on the magazine cover again. Relena had to look away.

"You wanted to talk about something? I was told it was urgent, my secretary called as soon as my plane landed." Relena could hear the strain in her voice as she fought to sound unaffected and business-like, all the while mentally berating herself for hoping this meeting was for some other reasons. Reasons his emailed correspondence had more than hinted at.

His features remained unchanged. "I received your list of required changes as an addendum to the contract."

"It was part of the original contract," she corrected, taking the seat across from him. "We just described them in greater detail in the addendum."

"I disagree."

"I'll be happy to show you where you're wrong."

"I'm sure you would."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A frosty glare flashed in her direction. He seemed like a statue carved in ice. "Those changes are not within the scope of what GLLC is willing to do to accommodate PCC's new product launch."

"Those changes are necessary in order to have your product run on our new line of business servers. If you are no longer interested in extending your market share…."

"Now that I've seen the document, I understand why you've been hiding it."

Relena felt her jaw slacken. "Hiding! What on earth are you talking about? We sent that section to your office first, before we found out you were in New York. We knew that you'd probably balk, but my brother thought that if he met with you personally…."

"Your demands are unreasonable."

"What is unreasonable?"

"You expect me to do all those revisions to a brand new release?" Heero asked with a shake of his head, the first real movement she'd seen him make. "Not my department of developers, but me personally… "

"It was my understanding that past releases were so flawed because you did not directly oversee them. PCC does not have time to deal with software bugs; we know you're the best…"

"I can't possibly manage my current workload and do all those changes."

Relena pursed her lips together and frowned, forcing her tone to remain quiet and even. "Fine, if your developers can get the changes done in time, I have no objection."

"You missed my point. The software doesn't need to be changed."

"Our consultants say those code revisions are necessary in order to integrate certain components with Z/OS in order for it to be effective…"

"It's fine as it is."

"I'm sure it is. But this is very…"

Heero bolted up from his chair, and leaned over the table, apparently unconcerned about the steadily increasing volume of his voice. "I can't afford to have to do these kinds of revisions every time a computer maker comes out with a new model. Your engineers should learn to work with it as it is."

"It's brand new technology," Relena explained, rising to her feet. "How can they possibly…" She glanced up to see anger heating his expression. At least it was better than the carved-from-ice man that had been sitting across from her. She looked away. "I see. We had hopes you'd be more cooperative."

"There's nothing to be cooperative about," he spat. "If you want patches and device drivers, hire your own team of developers…"

"It would take such a team months to orient themselves to the proper source code and overwrite the function calls, and then it wouldn't be a certified version of your software. We don't have that sort of time right now, and it's not like we were asking you to do it for free. We outlined, in my opinion, a fairly generous compensation bonus for doing the work. I think it is you who is being unreasonable."

Dark blue eyes narrowed from across the table. Relena had no idea what it was that seemed to be bothering him so much, but in his current state, she really had nothing more she wished to say. "If that is all, Mr. Yuy, I'll be going, now."

She turned to leave, but his voice reached out and coiled around her, halting her progress. "So that's what this has been all about, then."

"What?"

"These…pleasantries. Your attentions to Vash. Find the weakest link…."

"I don't know what your other partners have to do with anything. I've met Vash only once…." Realization hit her and Relena couldn't have been more surprised if he had just slapped her. Her eyes widened and she charged back to where he stood.

"You…How dare you…. It's bad enough that you've apparently been wasting my time, dragging out these negotiations when you had no intention of agreeing to our requests, but to then accuse me of prostituting myself for my company!" Her mouth opened to continue, but she caught herself and reeled in her temper. "I don't need this." She stomped towards the door, but he was too quick. He caught her by the shoulders and whirled her back around.

"Relena…"

She struggled in his grip. "Don't touch me!" She wrenched free and stumbled back. Relena turned away. "It doesn't matter what I've been through the last two days…You, I shouldn't have tried. They told me you wouldn't do it, that I was wasting my time…"

"Wasting your time? Is that what this has been to you?" 

She spun around to face him, startled by the emotion evident in his voice. She wanted to scream and yell and pummel her fists into his chest. She wanted to lie and tell him she didn't care, that she had never cared…. But Relena had never been one to cause a scene or to deny her true feelings. "That's not what it's been to me."

"Relena…I…"

"Heero, I really need those changes…." She looked at him, studying his stoic face, pleading with her eyes. She would have done anything at that moment to finally just let go – to tell him everything if he'd hold her and lend her some of that strength he always seemed to command. She expected the words she heard next, it was only that she dared hope not to hear them.

"I can't agree to it, Relena. And I won't."

She nodded and looked down at the floor, taking a deep breath and allowing her gaze to dart up, briefly scanning his features as she tried to hide her disappointment. "I understand. I should go, I have work to do. But if you're ever again in the area, you could stop by, or call…."

"I can't do that, either."

She couldn't help the bitter smile that tugged at her lips. "I see. Well, then… Good-bye, Heero."

He nodded and she walked passed him to the door. But she stopped before she pushed it open, her heart stinging with his rejection. "You were right, you know."

"What's that?"

"You were right. The rumors were more correct than I."

* * * * * *

**Lionsgate**** Apartments**

"Well, Vash. That's what you get for being a pervert, I have absolutely no sympathy for you." 

"But Van! It was the most horrifying experience I've ever had. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go grab some battery acid and blind myself."

Quatre stood up and gave the traumatized tester a pat on the back. "But you had to know when you signed up for the class that the 'Art of Human Figure Drawing' meant the figures of both women AND men."

Vash watched the CFO's retreating form as he headed to the kitchen. "Believe it or not, the thought never really occurred to me."

Van snorted. "I'd believe it."

Vash sank back into the couch cushions, trying to concentrate on anything except the mental image replaying over and over in his mind. "If you had been there, you'd be suffering along with me, friend. There I was, sketchbook in hand. The professor seemed like a nice enough guy when he introduced himself and told us that our model, Terry, would be out in just a minute."

"And let me guess," Van smirked. "You were expecting some cute, perky co-ed to come out, drop her robe, and drape herself over the couch in the middle of the room for your viewing pleasure."

Vash grinned. "Well, basically… yeah."

"And then?"

"And then Terry came out and dropped HIS robe… and proceeded to drape his hairy backside on the couch and stayed there for the rest of the hour. If I didn't disapprove of suicide so much, I would have stabbed myself with my pencil and ended it right there." Vash shuddered, but quickly recovered as Quatre returned with a plate of sandwiches.

"Ooooh – food. Maybe life is worth living after all. So, what did you guys do today? Where's Heero?"

A heavy veil of silence dropped onto the men in the room. Vash looked from one to the other, but was finally answered when the front door swung open and Heero's rigid figure marched into the apartment.

The tester watched Van and Quatre exchange knowing glances. The marketing VP jumped up from the sofa and stormed towards the kitchen, stopping inches from Heero's face. 

"You didn't."

"I did, and that's the end. Get out of my way, I just want to go to bed."

"You had no right to do that without consulting us! All of us!"

Heero pushed his way passed the other man, heading for his room. "Van, the changes were unreasonable. And I'm the CEO. It's always my right."

"Changes?" Vash repeated. "Quatre, what are they talking about?"

"The addendum to the PCC contract arrived today. Heero looked over them, but then he picked up his cell phone and left without a word to either of us."

Van's angry voice rang through the still-frosty air of the living room. "You son of a bitch, I can't believe you!" 

Quatre leapt up and took up a position between the two men. "Van, this isn't going to change anything. Heero, I thought we had all agreed…"

"Apparently," Van seethed," It doesn't matter what we want. Heero is the king and the rest of us are his lowly peons."

Vash stood up, slowly making his way towards his business partners. "I thought Relena was your friend, Heero. How could you just turn your back on her? I wanted to help her. I thought, I hoped, that maybe you did, too."

Heero stalked away, taking up his familiar pattern of retreat down the hallway. "Listen to me. This is the last time I'm going to say it, and the last time I want to hear about PCC or the contract or Relena Peacecraft. I am not here to be supporting other people's companies that they can't run, Vash. I don't give a damn what she wants, what you want, or what Van and Quatre want. All that I want is some god-damned peace and quiet and some time away from work and feeling like the whole world's depending on me - for just once in my life!"

The door to Heero's room shut with a resounding and final bang. Vash glanced up, actually surprised that the door was still on its hinges after all the workout it had been getting lately. There had to be a way to fix this. 

There just had to be.

*********************************************


	11. Will someone just shoot me? This is New...

Love's Labours Lost

By Stella and the Black Rose

AN: We cut this one in half. Chapter 11 isn't too far behind, but really, we thought this was a better break. :)  Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer:  We don't own Trigun, Gundam Wing, Escaflowne, Weiss or any of the characters.  We can only dream.

Chapter 10

Morning light trickled in through the half-closed blinds of the office window behind her desk, giving the room a dull, gray appearance – like the bright but hazy sky before a snowstorm. Relena shivered, trying to shake off the frost of her walk from the subway station, but the feeling was more than just the winter's cold. The numbness had set in last night; with the ice in his stare, the way he spoke to her, his refusal. She heard the words over and over again. 

_"I can't agree to it. And I won't." _

She had wanted to tell him, but she had never been one to play on people's sympathies. And now Relena had to wonder if knowing about her brother's condition or her company's problems would have made any difference to Heero Yuy at all. She stared at the latest, and still unsigned, draft of the PCC/GLLC contract that rested on her desk. 

Heero. After everything she'd heard, how could she have thought that he'd actually agree? Well, she had hoped he would. The young VP slumped in her desk chair. 

Heero. She wanted to stop thinking of him, she needed to – but yet… 

A memo faxed from Weiss caught her attention as her eyes drifted over the surface of her desk. Relena sat up straight, reading the typed words on the crisp white sheet. She reached for the phone, telling herself that she didn't have time to dwell on her feelings, or Heero's lack thereof. She had to get this matter resolved, and there was only one person left who could help her. 

"Ran Fujimaya, please."

"I'll put you right through." His secretary chirped out on the other end. After a few moments, his low, smooth voice interrupted the hold music. "Ran."

She took a deep breath. "Hi."

"Relena."

"How are you?"

She heard the clacking of keys and the shuffling of papers in the background. "Busy."

"Oh, if you need me to let you go…"

"No. Don't."

Silence hung over the connection, and she felt the pang of that terrible emotion grab a tighter hold on her with each passing second. She glanced up at a gold-framed picture of her and Milliardo as children that sat by the phone, and her thoughts rushed to the girl who was in a similar set of circumstances. "How's your sister doing, Ran?"

"As well as can be expected. Her treatments leave her weak, but the in-home care seems to be helping."

Relena swallowed against the lump in her throat. "Any word on…whether she'll make it?"

"Yeah. The doctors think she will."

"Oh, that's so great!"

"I owe a lot of it to you."

"We're helping each other." Her eyes moved from the photograph and found the contract again. Suddenly the words on the paper blurred and she found herself choking back a sob.

"Relena, are you crying?"

"I…I'm sorry, I don't mean…"

"Tell me."

Her fist curled tightly around the pen she was holding as she paused to take a long, deep breath. "You were right, Ran. All along. He's…Gundanium refused."

"We don't need them, Relena."

She wiped the moisture from her cheeks. "I…But we'd…"

"I'll give Omi the go ahead, and we can have the final product to you Tuesday. We can make this work. Trust me."

"Ran…I-"

"Relena, I'm holding a meeting in five minutes, I have to go. But I'll see you on Saturday."

"Oh!" She felt her lips curl into a genuine smile. "Yes, of course. I'll see you Saturday, then." Relena hung up the receiver. She wiped at her eyes and then rested her chin on her palm while she paged through her daily planner. "I totally forgot that we had a date…"

"What's that?" A voice cut into her musings. Relena sat up straight and turned to face the sound.

"Oh, Hitomi. I didn't hear you come in."

The marketing rep smiled as she moved towards the desk, letting the door close behind her. The panel drifted backwards, but flew open again with an abrupt bang.

"Sooooo, Heero Yuy asked you on a date after all? Does that mean he's changed his mind?"

Relena sighed. "No. Actually, Dorothy, I have a date with Ran to the charity night-"

"RED?" The attorney grinned, taking a seat on the edge of her boss's desk. "My my, you sure don't waste any time."

"I'm glad you're not mooning over Heero," Hitomi said as she deposited a folder in Relena filing cabinet. "He sounds like a jerk."

The VP tapped a pen on a nearby stack of paperwork. "Mr. Yuy and I have no relationship, never had one, never will have one. There's nothing to moon over, Hitomi."

"So," Dorothy said, crossing her legs and turning to scrutinize the woman behind the desk, "Did you find something completely low-cut and sexy to wear? Something that says 'I'm all yours, Red, take me here on this buffet table'?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow and leaning back across the smooth wooden surface.

Relena stood up, glaring down at the woman sprawled over her files. "Uh, no. I'm hosting a respectable charity event, not publicly displaying my personal assets."

Dorothy sat up and then promptly hopped down from her perch. "You'd probably get more donations that way."

"No."

"Something subtly sexy?"

"To be honest, I haven't had a chance to think about it, Dorothy."

Hitomi's head snapped around from her place by the filing cabinet. "You don't know what you're wearing, yet?"

Relena shook her head. "No, I figure I can maybe go dress shopping tomorrow, or find something in my clos-"

Dorothy gasped.

"-et. What?"

"You CAN'T go on a date with the sexiest computer geek alive in just something you find in your closet. We're taking off now and going shopping."

Relena stalked passed the attorney and took up a position next to Hitomi. "Dorothy, I can't. I have a conference call at-"

"We won't take no for an answer."

The brown-haired woman crossed her arms. "We?"

"Yes, you're coming, too, Hitomi."

She grinned."Oh, good. Then I can cancel that meeting with that Farfello guy. He gives me the creeps."

Dorothy made a face and nodded. "Oh, eww, yeah. Skip that. You're too busy."

"Dorothy!"

"Relena! You don't get a choice. I'm going to go back and sit in the middle of your desk and you won't get any work done whether you stay here or not. So, you may as well make the most of your time by getting your shopping out of the way."

The VP narrowed her eyes and pointed a chiding finger at her friend. "I could fire you."

Dorothy shrugged. "You could, but you won't."

"Fine. Let me get my purse."

************************

A sparse covering of snow sprinkled the Columbia University campus, as the wind gusted across the open courtyard. White powder settled and clung to the untouched grass and gathered in crevices of the weatherworn statues and stately brick window ledges. Vash shuffled through the administration building's musty hallway and slowed as he passed a set of glass doors. The software tester stole a glance at the bleak outside and promptly turned on his heel, heading for the coffee cart in the lobby.

"What do you mean you won't give me a double triple shot?"

"Sir, I just think that's a bit too much caffeine for one drink. I'm not even sure if it's legal in this state."

"Oh give me a break. This is New York. Just fill the cup, lady."

Vash shook his head as he neared the source of the commotion. There was only one person in the world that would be having that conversation.

"Hey there, Van. Returning to your natural habitat?"

Van sighed. "Hardly. It's more like an oasis in the desert of decaf and boring classes…" He shot a glare at the woman behind the counter, "… and a crummy one at that." 

The cart attendant scowled and slid the large steaming cup across the countertop. Vash ordered a hot chocolate to go and took a quick sip, steeling himself for the trek across campus. "Ready to brave the frozen tundra? I'm starved. How about the deli on 116th? "

The marketing VP shrugged. "Guess so."

The two men buttoned up their coats, pulled on their gloves and pushed through doors. The winter air bit at their chapped skin, but Vash noticed the frigid temperatures were getting a bit easier to take. Could it be that he was getting used to this?

"What class did you have this morning? Modern Media?" The blond asked, clinging to the warmth of the styrofoam cup in his hands.

Van growled. "No. International finance. I can't believe that professor. He argued with me over the European economy, third world labor forces AND underground capitalist markets in communist countries. The man was a complete and total moron."

"Just because he doesn't agree with every statement you make doesn't mean that he's a moron," Vash said.

"Yes it does."

"Well, I don't always agree with you."

Van stopped in his tracks and turned to face the taller man. "I fail to see your point, Vash. You're the biggest moron I know." 

"From you, I'll take that as a compliment. Maybe you should have more coffee now."

Van narrowed his eyes as he took a sip, but the grim expression took a turn for the worse as he seemed to catch sight of something over Vash's shoulder.

"Don't look now, here comes his royal highness."

The tester spun and craned his neck, noticing the approaching figures of Heero and Quatre. They emerged from the math and sciences building. 

"Van, I'm just as upset about it as you are, but hating Heero forever isn't going to fix it. Maybe if we give him some time, and then talk to him, we can still make this deal work with PCC."

"It's not that simple, Vash. Not anymore."

"What do you mean?"

Brown eyes darted away, turning towards the familiar pair of men joining their small huddle. "Nevermind. Hey, Quatre."

The shorter blond mustered a pleasant grin. "Hi, Van."

Vash fell into step behind his friends, grateful that Van at least was steering them all towards the deli.

"How was math class?" Van asked, directing his question only to Quatre while giving Heero a venomous glance out of the corner of his eye.

Quatre looked completely worn out. "Not very productive. The professor spent most of the hour grilling us because he didn't believe that Heero was Heero. After that he kept asking us questions about 7.2's networking capabilities."

Vash shuddered. "Ugh. So you spent your advanced math class doing tech support?"

"Basically," Heero muttered.

"Aw, man, I'm sorry."

Van huffed, seemingly not to be outdone by the company president and CFO. "Well, it couldn't have been as bad as my international finance class. You will not believe this professor…"

Vash groaned silently and went to work searching for his headphones in the voluminous pockets of his red coat. Maybe, just maybe, if he turned the music up loud enough, it would drown out the sound of Van's griping.

"… moron actually disagreed with me on European…" Vash's finger found the play button, and finally, the welcome sound of an upbeat tune greeted his ears. 

_It's the music that we choose… it's the music that we choose…_

_The world is spinning too fast, I'm buying lead Nike shoes_

_To keep myself tethered to the days I try to lose…_

The rapid beat moved him along, adding a bounce to his step. He shifted his heavy bag over both shoulders, freeing his arms to sway in time with the song while he half hummed/half sung the lyrics. Vash caught the looks of disapproval that Van and Heero were launching his way, but he couldn't make himself care. 

_Keep a mild groove on – there you go!_

_ Get the cool! Get the cool shoeshine!_

_ Day doo de bop…_

The best part of the song! The four men melted into a larger crowd of people waiting on a crosswalk signal in the frosty New York afternoon. The tester dumped his heavy bag and cup on the sidewalk, giving himself over to the music as Heero, Van, and Quatre backed away and hid their faces in their hands. Vash swayed, he spun; he snapped his fingers and strutted around the small circle that had cleared to give him space. 

_Day doo de bop…_

The signal changed and Vash knelt to retrieve the items he'd shed only moments before. Passersby stared at the tall blond, and as he scooped up his discarded cup in search of a trash can, they promptly began depositing their loose change in the empty styrofoam when they filed by. He blinked at the coins that clinked inside, then up at his patrons. "Wha-? Um, thank you. I… Thanks a lot, ma'am. Uh…"

"Nice show, sonny." An older man smiled, throwing in a quarter before stepping out into the street. "But I think your moves still need a little work." 

"Geez, mister, what do you want for twenty-five cents?" 

Vash raced to the corner to join his friends, only to notice they hadn't moved at all. He sidled up to the company president, following the dark-haired man's gaze across the street and stopping at the trio of young women emerging from a dress shop. 

_"_It's the PCC girls, boss."

Heero's mouth remained set in a thin line. "I can see that, Vash."

Blond spikes bobbed along with the tune still playing in his ears. "We should go over and say hi."

Heero stood still, his blue eyes obviously locked on Relena. Vash smirked.

_There's a monkey in the jungle, watching a vapor trail_

_ Caught up in the conflict between his brain and his tail_

"Aw, come on, boss. We could invite them to join us for lunch."

"No," Heero growled. 

Quatre sighed heavily, his attention clearly fixed on Dorothy. Van glared at Vash, then stole another not-so-subtle glance at Hitomi from a distance. "We should go home."

"Too late for that." Vash beamed. "I think they've seen us."

_And if time's elimination then we got nothing to lose._

_ Please repeat the message, it's the music that we choose._

Vash pulled off his headphones, keeping one eye on his sorrowful group of buddies and the other on the approaching women. _M_y _friends, you have a choice to make, and I see I'm just going to have to make it for you. This is for your own good._

"PCC girls!" The tester rushed forward and enveloped all three ladies in a giant hug. "How are you? I feel like it's been forever since we've seen you!"

"We've been better, Mr. Vash." Dorothy gasped, artfully disentangling herself from his hold. "Though we can hardly hold it against you." The flaxen-haired attorney's icy stare flashed to a point beyond the man in the red coat and finally settled on…

"Heero?" Relena smoothed her rumpled jacket and looked up to meet the advancing software exec. Vash turned, noticing that his friend's posture grew even more rigid, if that were possible. Heero froze in his position behind Vash and nodded coolly at the young woman. She bowed her head in response and kept her distance. Vash looked from one to the other and felt his mouth curve into a frown.

"Van!" Hitomi loosed herself and started towards the marketing VP, her eyes catching the smile spreading over her features. "You hadn't called, I was wondering what…"

"Good afternoon, Miss Kanzaki," Van bit out, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he turned to study something on the street behind him. Hitomi's jaw slackened and her pace slowed. 

"Van?"

He appeared not to hear her – or at least he was trying to appear that way, from what Vash could tell.

"Van!"

The dark-haired man finally spun around, this time addressing the young woman in a more frigid tone as Heero stared at the couple. "Yes, Miss Kanzaki? Was there something further you needed to discuss with me?"

Hitomi glared at him and crossed her arms. "No, Mr. Fanel. I guess there isn't."

Vash watched Hitomi retreat back towards the other ladies and scowled in Van's direction, then looked back at the girls. Dorothy was smiling at Quatre while the CFO avoided meeting her gaze, practically hiding behind Heero. This was turning into a disaster – and fast. He had to do something.

"So, what brings you lovely ladies to this part of town on such a fine winter afternoon?" Vash plastered on his biggest grin and moved between the women and his friends.

"I needed a dress for a charity event that PCC is hosting tomorrow evening. It's silent auction and casino night to benefit cancer patients," Relena said. Vash saw her steal a quick glance over his shoulder at Heero. 

_All hope is not lost. But what is with those guys? _

"Well, that sounds like it'll be a good time. I hope it's a big success." The tester smiled, curling his arms around the women again in an attempt to herd them in the opposite direction.

"I hope so." Relena smiled back as they walked. "Actually, Mr. Vash, I had an invitation sent to your apartment. We'd hoped that you all would be able to join us. We still do."

_Perfect_.

"Oh, you can count me in, Miss Relena. I can't say no to a charity!"

Dorothy looked up at the tall blond. "We knew we liked you, Mr. Vash. Can't say as much for your three partners back there."

Hitomi gasped. "Dorothy!"

"Well, is there a reason that they have to act like jerks or does it just come naturally?"

"That's enough, Dorothy. Please." Relena cut in.

"Listen, ladies," Vash pleaded, waiting at the crosswalk with the women. He could feel his friends' eyes boring into him from a distance as he moved away with the PCC girls. "I'm not going to make excuses for them, I'm not going to tell you to just forget about it, but I am going to ask you – please, just give them one more chance? If I can get them to come to the party – please?"

"Do you think you can get Van to come with you?" Hitomi asked.

"They'd be crazy not to, and miss you three all dolled up! Besides, they all have a soft spot for a good cause – even the grump twins back there."

The women laughed as the signal changed and hugged him, of their own volition this time, and started back across the street. The tester spun around, coming face to face with…

"Vash! Just what the hell was that all about?" Van growled.

Vash shook his head. "I should be asking you three what the hell you were doing back there. Those girls can still be our friends, even if the business stuff didn't work out. Geez. So, I think the least we can do is go to that party."

"Absolutely not."

"Come on, Heero. It's for charity."

"Charity is your department, Vash. Do what you want. Hope you have enough allowance leftover to rent your tux."

"Well, I think considering the event, maybe GLLC could make a small donation," Quatre said.

"I could do with some catered food." Van shrugged. "The steady diet of leftover takeout and tv dinners is getting to me."

"My thoughts exactly," Vash said. "So, come on, Heero. What do you say?"

"Is there any chance of you shutting up until I agree?"

Vash tapped his chin. "Uh… nope. None whatsoever."

Blue eyes flashed up at him. "Fine."

"You mean it?"

"You heard me."

"Loud and clear. You won't regret it, boss. I think we're going to have a great time!"

_*********************_

Saturday Night

Ballroom

Van's anxiety to see Hitomi soured quickly as soon as they stepped through the door. Happy couples chattered nearby until the doorman called for their attention to announce the GLLC partner's arrival. Several frosty glares were shot in their direction. His shoulders hitched into knots, and he leaned over to the person nearest him. Of all the luck, it happened to be Vash. "Will someone just shoot me now?" 

"Hey, this is New York City. Be careful what you wish for." 

Van grimaced at his friend's reply as the four men descended into a brightly-lit ballroom. A golden glow radiated from their surroundings, reflecting off of the tall windows, polished tiles and the brass staircase that swooped and curled into the low hum of clinking glasses and pleasant conversation. Buffet tables lined the walls, linens draped to match the large "PCC First Annual Charity Casino Night" that hung over the still-empty dance floor. The small group of software moguls reached the lower level and stopped to take in the rest of the sights and…

Quatre spoke up. "Is that Allen Schezar?" 

Van's eyes shot over to the bar in the far corner. A tall man with long blond hair smiled and sipped a martini while a pair of very well dressed, very well endowed women in sequined evening gowns fawned over him. The marketing VP set his jaw and felt his temperature rise in the confines of his black Armani suit. "Yeah, that's him."

"Forget about it, Van," Heero said. The CEO turned his attention to a different side of the room. Van sought out a different focal point as well, until he felt Vash tap him on the shoulder.

"I think he's coming over here."

Van let out an agitated puff of air. "So?"

"And… I think he has on the same tux that you do."

"What?" He glanced down, inspecting the expensive Italian suit. He glared across the room, then back at his clothes, trying to compare.

"How can you tell?" Quatre asked. "Tuxedos all look the same to me."

"It's got the same little flippy thing in the lapel, with the fabric… and the…"

"Will you shut up?" Van spat at the tester. "I don't care if he's wearing the same suit." He straightened his posture and crossed his arms. "Besides, I look better in it."

"You think?" Vash teased. "What do you think, Heero?"

"Hn. I'm going to get a club soda"

Quatre examined his own suit. "I never did like tuxedoes."

The marketing VP grabbed the taller blond by a shirt collar. "This is all your fault, Vash."

"I'm so glad that you could make it!"

Van lost his grip and spun around, his gaze seeking out the person who'd spoken the words. His entire body froze. He couldn't move. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. _Hitomi__._

He was only faintly aware of the low buzz in his ears; of Vash returning the greeting and saying hello to Relena, and answering her when she asked about Heero's whereabouts; of Quatre commenting on how kind the invitation was and how they were happy to be here and for such a good cause. Relena said something in reply. Hitomi took a step forward and smiled.

Her dress was red, hugging tightly to the curves of her upper body before flaring out at the waist in gentle, sheer fabrics that stopped above her knees. The light from the crystal chandeliers danced in her short, light brown hair and dripped from the gold earrings in her ears.

Ruby lips started moving, and it took Van a few moments to realize she was speaking to him. 

"How are you, Van?"

"Hm? What's that?"

She moved towards him, and he stepped back in time with her advance. After several paces, the account executive had been unable to close much of the distance between them.

"Is something wrong? Van, if something is the matter, won't you just tell me? Please don't keep running away, or acting like I don't exist. Van?"

"I don't have a choice, Hitomi." He knew he regretted the words as soon as they passed his lips, even if he wasn't quite sure what he meant by them.

"A choice?" She moved again and finally gained some ground. "Van, I don't understand. What's that supposed to-"

"Van Fanel. You're a long way from home, aren't you?" 

His voice was the sound of nails on a chalkboard. Van turned a black look toward the interruption. "What do you want, Schezar?"

"Just wanted to come over and say hello. It's the gentlemanly thing to do. And I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting this beautiful young lady."

Hitomi's uncertain gaze stayed for a brief second on Van until turning to the new arrival. "Hitomi. Hitomi Kanzaki."

The blond man grinned widely and stooped to kiss her hand. "Why of course! Miss Kanzaki – we've met before. Please forgive me. You're even lovelier than the last time I saw you."

A slight flush spread over the young woman's cheeks and warmed her exposed shoulders. Van scowled.

"Why thank you, Mr. Schezar."

"Allen, please."

Hitomi giggled. "Allen."

Van's nostrils flared when the taller man offered his arm. "I think the band is starting up. Would you care to dance?"

She bit her lip, once again glancing back at Van. He looked away.

She turned to Allen. "I'd love to."

The couple started off, and Allen's ice blue eyes glinted back at Van as he seethed alone. Schezar laughed. "It was good seeing you, again, Van. Oh, and nice tux, by the way."

***********************************

Quatre bit his lip as he searched the group for his friends. He saw Van in the corner looking like he might try to drown himself in the glass of water he held in front of him. The CFO started off in his direction. 

"Van, are you alright?"

"Leave me alone, Quatre."

The blond hung his head, a twinge of guilt seeping into his chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't think when I said it. I'm sure the last person you wanted to see was Allen Schezar."

Van sucked in a deep breath and shook his head. "No, it's all right. He would have found me anyway. At least I had a few seconds to prepare myself."

Quatre nodded slowly and turned to scan the room. He stopped at a heavily laden buffet table. "Are you hungry?"

"No, not really. Schezar made me lose my appetite. I think I'll go sit down and get another mineral water and try to imagine it's scotch."

"Ok, well I'll tell Heero where to find you and I'll be over in a few minutes."

The CFO wove his way through the maze of tables, guests and carts. His eyes flew to the dance floor again and again. They roved over the upper and lower levels of the massive room, but he still hadn't seen her. But did it really matter? What would he say to her even if he did?

"Would you care to dance, Mr. Winner?'

The financial officer nearly dropped his glass of punch. "Miss Dorothy!"

"I'd hoped that I would see you here tonight." She sidled up next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, which migrated downward to toy with the flower in his lapel. "I've missed your company." She smiled. "I never did get to tell you what a wonderful time I had last weekend."

"I had a nice time, too, Miss Dorothy." Quatre gulped, distracted by her proximity. "You look…" He caught a glimpse of her strapless blue gown as it brushed against the floor, revealing a dangerous amount of her legs through the high slits in either side. The CFO swallowed again. "…very nice this evening."

"Why thank you. As do you. Some men are just born to wear tuxes. I think you're one of them."

"Oh. Well, uh, thank you. I…"

The jazz band at the other end of the ballroom struck up a second time, this time starting in on a lively swing number.

"I love this kind of music," Dorothy said, taking his hand. "So, what about that dance?"

Quatre's eyes darted first to his hand, then to the table where Van and Heero, now joined by Vash, were sitting. "I really can't, Miss Dorothy."

"Oh? You don't know how? It's very easy, I'm sure you'd pick it up in just a few-"

"It's not that," the CFO blurted out. "I can't. I really can't dance…with you. As much as I want to."

She dropped his hand and took a step back. "Suit yourself, Mr. Winner."

He watched her march towards the dance floor, alone - until she was swallowed up by the crowd. He sighed and forgot his plate, slowly making his way back to his friends.

**************************************

"Hey guys, you should see all the fun stuff they have here! There's a booth where you can nominate someone, and then the rest of the people here vote on what they're most likely-" 

"Can it, Vash."

Blond spikes turned in Van's direction. "Just because you're miserable doesn't mean we all are. Right guys? Guys?"

Van could see his two other friends were enjoying this about as much as he was. Heero was scowling over a second glass of club soda and Quatre stared into space, seemingly oblivious to everything going on around him. Van couldn't take it anymore. He picked up his glass.

"I'm going to get a refill. Any takers?" No one said a word.

He approached the bar, catching sight of captivating red and the woman wearing it. It was what he was hoping for. He had to talk to her, he had to say something….

"Hitomi?"

She turned her graceful neck slowly, regarding him only out of the corner of her eye. "Van."

Her hand rested on the bar's wooden counter, waiting to pick up a glass. He reached out and covered it with his own.

"Please, Hitomi, just let me explain."

She pulled away and whirled around to face him completely. "I don't need any explanation, Van. You've made yourself pretty clear without having to explain anything at all. I'm not stupid you know."

"Hitomi, I never said-"

"I've had enough of you."

"Hitomi."

He could see the tears gathering in her eyes. He reached out again, but she backed away. "Don't come near me, don't speak to me. I wouldn't want to force you to do anything you didn't want to do."

He watched her go, for the second time that night. He thought that his heart had broken when Millerna left him. But now it seemed like nothing – nothing in comparison with losing Hitomi.

************************************

Meryl watched Hitomi run off, her reporter's mind painfully curious at what had transpired between the account executive and GLLC's Vice President of Marketing. But from what Vash had told her about his friends, she could make a pretty good guess. The dark-haired woman moved towards the bar where Hitomi had last been, when she caught sight of Relena and Dorothy.

"Dorothy, I saw Hitomi run out," Relena said, catching her friend by the arm. "Would you please go to the ladies room and make sure she's all right? I shouldn't leave for more than a few minutes, but come back and get me if it's something serious."

The blond attorney nodded, brushing passed Meryl on her way. 

"Is everything ok, Dorothy?"

"I can't say, Meryl. I have to go check on Hitomi."

The reporter fell into step beside the taller young woman.

"I have a feeling what this is about, Dorothy. And I think there's something you and Hitomi need to know."


	12. Heero, this is my date, the CEO of Weiss...

Love's Labours Lost

By Stella and the Black Rose

AN: Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Another chapter!  Sorry it took so long! We're getting there, we're getting there. *hugs* to everyone still with us. Thank you so much for reading! Love, Rose and Stella

Chapter 11

Meryl listened to her voice bounce off the expensively tiled bathroom floor and walls, inwardly wincing at her choice of location to reveal the GLLC partner's secret. The acoustics amplified every word. And her companions' expressions seemed to grow more livid with every echo.

"They did what?" Dorothy's voice sounded like it might shatter the mirror.

The reporter's eyes widened at the other two women, and she put her hand up, hoping to quiet them. "Shhhh! I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. I found out in Seattle. The day they signed it was the day I interviewed Heero for my Kings of Gundanium article.

Dorothy crossed her arms and scoffed. "I think Vash is pulling your leg, Meryl. What normal bunch of twenty-something guys would sign themselves into celibacy for three years?"

"It's the truth, I swear," Meryl said. "I saw the pact. The actual paper with their signatures on it."

"You're kidding!" Hitomi pulled a fistful of tissues from her purse to dab at her tears and runny eye make-up. "You mean the reason they've been acting like morons is because they'll lose their stock in the company if they date? Why didn't they just tell us?

"They're afraid it'll be a public relations nightmare and tank the value of GLLC."

Dorothy made a face, lowering her voice as another woman entered the room. "Then why not just dissolve it? Heero has to have them all figured out by now."

"Vash says he's clueless." Meryl arched an eyebrow. "That he's too hung up on Relena to notice that Van and Quatre are in the same boat."

"Well, Relena's already chalked him up as the world's biggest jerk." Hitomi sniffed. "And I have to say, we agreed."

"Vash told me the only reason that Heero was dragging out the contract negotiations for so long was because it was the only way he could see Relena without raising suspicion."

"He's still a jerk if he gave her up for his stupid pride," Dorothy said. "If you're right, Meryl, and they're miserable over this because they do care about us, then it's just pride holding them back. None of them is willing to be the first to cave in their little 'whose is bigger' contest."

Hitomi rifled through her handbag and found an eyeliner. She stared into the mirror, trying to fix her make-up. "Does it all have to relate back to the male anatomy, Dorothy?"

The blond shrugged. "It's not me, it's Freud. And yeah. It all has to do with their male anatomy one way or the other."

Hitomi turned around. "But Van never laid a hand on me."

"Only because he's afraid of losing his money and fancy cars," Dorothy said. "Think about it, Hitomi. He's choosing a car over you."

The woman in red growled and tossed her eyeliner back in her bag. "Ugh, that jerk! Now I'm mad all over again! I'm going to do what I should have done in the first place – slap him silly and tell him to go to hell!" Hitomi charged for the exit, but Dorothy raised a hand, halting her infuriated friend.

"As entertaining as that may be, I have a better idea." The attorney turned to the reporter.

"Vash says they're miserable not being with us tonight, correct?"

Meryl nodded. "That is the information from my source."

"Perfect!" Dorothy's lips turned up into cat-like smile and she led the two women out of the ladies room and into the hall. "Then we'll just twist the knife a little more. I'm sure there are plenty of other men who would love to be used for our purposes." At the end of the hallway, the girls caught sight of Ran Fujimaya and his group of associates moving towards the ballroom. 

"But Dorothy!" Hitomi protested. "It's wrong to do that to some poor, unsuspecting… Oh my god, all the Weiss boys are hot. When did hackers start looking like that?"

Dorothy grinned as her friend gaped at the group of computer experts. "Think of it not as using them, but rather as a treat to ourselves for not killing the GLLC boys. And hey! If those guys are going to be stupid about their pride, then we need to move on with our lives."

Meryl looked on as Hitomi locked her gaze on one of the Weiss group's taller, fair-haired members. "Ooooh… Definitely…"

"And what about you, Meryl?" The attorney turned and focused her steely glare on Meryl.

The reporter looked away. "What about me?"

"And Vash. Is he willing to give up the pact for you?"

Meryl laughed. "Me? And Vash? I don't know what you're talking ab-"

"Oh please…" Dorothy rolled her eyes. "Play innocent if it makes you feel better. But you can't fool me, Meryl." Dorothy smiled, tossed her hair, and adjusted the front of her dress to reveal more cleavage. 

"Come on, ladies, we have some men to bring to their knees."

**********************************************************

Relena watched her friends file behind Hitomi into the bathroom. Apparently, _all_ the men from GLLC were jerks. She just hoped Hitomi wasn't as stuck on Van as she was on…. _I'm not in love with him. _

The door opened behind her and she turned around to greet the recent arrivals. Three men wearing pristine white tuxedos entered the room. The first was tall and refined, with dark brown hair and glasses, followed by a man with a long, spiked, orange mane and sunglasses perched on top of his head. The third was more than slightly creepy with a short, white haircut and a patch over his left eye. Relena recognized them immediately and had to forcibly paste a smile on her face as their names were announced. The trio made a virtual beeline in her direction. 

"Masters Crawford, Schuldig, and Farfello. Owners of Schwartz Limited." 

"Hello, Miss Relena." Crawford took her hand and bent to kiss it. 

Schuldig sidled up to her and leaned close to whisper in her ear. "You're as beautiful as ever."

Blood warmed her cheeks even as she felt uncomfortable with Schuldig breathing down her neck. She kept her plastic smile in place. "Thank you. I'm so… glad you could come."

"The pleasure is ours." Crawford leered down at her, his chestnut hair hanging slightly in his face. She grit her teeth when Schuldig leaned in and ran a finger down the length of her right arm. 

"I could make you look even more beautiful." 

Relena swallowed a nervous laugh. "You're both too kind. But you know I can't. My position in the company…Well, I don't think the stockholders would understand."

Crawford adjusted the glasses on the end of his nose. "It's a pity. But if you ever change your mind and want to shed that 'good girl image'…"

"I promise you'll be the first ones I call."

Crawford smiled again and nodded. "Good evening, Miss Relena." He and Farfello stepped around her and descended the rest of the stairs to join the party. The orange-haired 'photographer' remained behind.

"Would you care to dance?"

Relena took a deep breath and shrank against the railing to let him pass. "I would, but, I'm waiting for my date."

"I'm jealous. But he's not very smart to leave you alone."

She pressed her lips into a thin smile. "He'll-"

"Leave her alone, Schuldig." A voice rang out behind her. Violet eyes narrowed beneath the bright orange, but he drew back. Schuldig smirked at Relena one last time before heading for the stairs. 

"My apologies, Miss Relena." The blond VP turned around to greet the fourth member of Schwartz and his quite giddy date. Relena's face finally broke into a genuine grin.

"Nagi. Tot. I'm so glad you could make it." 

The blue haired girl giggled as she clutched Nagi's arm.

Nagi nodded. "Likewise. I brought the donation, since my partners apparently forgot the check at the office." He handed her an envelope. 

She took it and shook his hand in a warm gesture, surprised when she had to blink back tears. _Oh geez, I can't get this emotional every time we get a donation. _Relena cleared her throat. "Thank you."

A small smile formed on the young man's lips. "It's the least we could do. We're very pleased with our new servers, and you had to put up with those three."

"They're not that bad."

"I work with them. I know. You're a saint."

"So, how is your new project working out?"

Nagi's expression soured. "I'm photoshoping pictures of women and animals for a new website in our 'limited' porn collection: Beastialsex.com."

Relena grimaced. "I'm sorry."

"Yes. I have just these words of advice, Relena: never let them photograph you."

**********************************************

"Why are we even here?" Van groaned to his companions. His eyes followed Allen Schezar as he leaned way too close to Hitomi than what should be considered good for the arrogant, blond, womanizing ass's health. He could feel his fists clench at his sides, and he scowled at the too-cozy image they made.

Heero growled. "I think that's only the fiftieth time you've asked that question." 

"When the hell is someone going to answer it then?" Van felt his temperature rise along with his anger. Across the room, Hitomi laughed and brought her hand up to rest on Allen's arm. 

"We're here because it's our job to be here," Quatre said in a low voice. 

The main door opened, and four more tuxedo-clad men entered the room. They stopped at the top of the set of richly carpeted stairs leading down to the ballroom as people turned to acknowledge their arrival. The first was a young, dark haired man that Van instantly recognized as the former J League goalkeeper, Ken Hidaka. Right behind him was a younger man he didn't recognize, followed by known playboy Yohji Kadou - still wearing his 'signature' dark sunglasses even indoors at night. Completing the group was a tall, fiery haired man with a trench coat length black jacket. 

Though Van couldn't identify them all by name, he knew them by the white crosses each displayed in various ways on their attire. "Weiss. Those bastards. Look at them – posing like they're some kind of boy-band. What the hell are they doing here? "

"You're kidding, right?" Vash said in a hushed voice. "They filed to incorporate two months ago. Ran Fujimaya, the guy with the red hair, is now the CEO of Weiss Kreuz, Inc. I thought everyone knew that."

"Shut up Vash, you found that out from your reporter girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Hackers turned entrepreneurs?" Quatre blinked as his brow furrowed into perplexed lines.

"What are they doing?" Van snorted. "Security?"

"That seems like a conflict of interest."  
Heero turned to look at Van. "Why not? They know software bugs and holes better than anyone." 

Ran Fujiyama moved down the steps, heading straight towards Relena. The man nodded politely, addressing her with a bit of a smile, then passed her one of the two champagne glasses he held in his hands. Heero's sharp breath could be heard across the table when Ran's free palm caught her delicate wrist and raised it to his lips.

"Tell me PCC has more sense than...." Van's voice trailed off as Yohji leaned over and whispered something in Hitomi's ear. She blushed.

"That asshole!" Red swam in bright spots before his eyes.

Quatre patted his friend on the back. "Calm down, Van. Mr. Kadou is just talking to Hitomi. You can't get all bent out of shape every time a man talks to her."

Van whirled around. "First Schezar, now Kadou. What is it with Hitomi and womanizing jerks?"

*****************************************

Relena blushed as Ran kissed the back of her hand, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Every nerve in her body seemed to respond, chilling her skin and sending tiny shivers down her spine. _It's still not like when Heero touched you_, her traitorous mind internally observed. 

_No, he's nothing at all like Heero. It's one of his best qualities._

"As much as I hate to say it, Ran, you were right." She took a sip of the sweet flavored champagne he had brought her. 

"It would have been nothing short of a miracle if you'd gotten Yuy to agree to those changes." His dark blue eyes sparkled with warmth and she couldn't help but think how attractive he was – especially in that tux.

_"Tuxedos are like the tootsie roll part of a tootsie roll pop."_

_"I know I'm going to regret asking, Dorothy, but…."_

_"Delicious. Chocolate flavored. And I don't have the patience to just lick my way to the center."_

She coughed, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. "Oh, they'll make the changes. In the next release."

"Typical."

"Yeah. So, if you have some time, I've gone over the original contract and made a couple of revisions…"

He narrowed his gaze slightly in her direction. "We're not discussing business tonight."

"I…you're right. I'm sorry."

"Would you care to dance, Relena?"

She smiled again. "I'd…like that."

**************************************

If Heero could have figured out how to kill the man from across the room with just a look, he would have done it before Ran had taken the first step onto the dance floor. Relena's velvet dress with the plunging v-shaped backline left ample, inviting, flesh visible - and touchable. And the other man certainly seemed to notice and enjoy the unhappy circumstance. With every bare-skin caress, Heero could feel the alcoholic thirst mounting. He desperately wanted a drink to douse the angry fire that had ignited in his chest. 

His fists clenched and unclenched; he didn't want that man touching her. He tried to tear his eyes away from the irrationally irritating sight, but it was like a car wreck on the side of the road – no matter how hard he tried to look away, his gaze was drawn back to the gruesome wreckage. 

Finally, just when he thought he might consider trading his company and life's work for a bottle of bourbon, the song ended and the couple broke from one another. Relena smiled at Ran and then turned away, heading towards the hors d'oeuvre tables situated just behind the stewing GLLC president. 

As she approached, she looked up and met his eyes for a moment before turning her attention to the servers. "Could you make up a small plate? And I'd like a glass of champagne. Thank you."

He was standing only a few feet away from her, yet she hadn't said a single word. If she hadn't looked right at him, he'd have thought she didn't even know he was there. He found himself drifting closer, unable to break the magnetic force that seemed to draw him in….

The waiter handed her the requested plate and champagne glass. Relena spun around and came face to face with the object of her ire. 

"Relena."

"Mr. Yuy." Several emotions flitted across her face before she was able to school it into the appropriately diplomatic hostess expression. She smiled the perfect, dazzling smile he knew was the only insincere thing about her. "Thank you so much for attending this evening."

"Hn." 

"Gracious as ever, I see." The smile and her face dimmed. He preferred the more candid expression.

"At least I'm not dishonest about my emotions."

Relena's jaw remained set. "I'm sure you're not. You have to have them first."

He raised an eyebrow and was about to reply when Ran appeared beside her. His hand came up to rest on the small of her back, effectively interrupting the glaring contest. 

"Ran," she said, twisting in his loose embrace to address her date. Heero scowled at the fact the man was all too comfortable touching her in ways he quite possibly would never be allowed. He found himself wishing for the bottle of bourbon again; but this time he wanted it to be empty so he could use it to bash in Ran's head.

The Weiss CEO nodded at her, his blue eyes staring intently at her face as if trying to memorize every detail. She smiled that radiant smile again that should have warned Heero there was a knife about to be plunged into his back.

"Ran, have you met the king of Gundanium, Heero Yuy?"

The red-head's mouth quirked up in a crooked line as his eyes flicked over to meet the gaze of the man in question. "Heero, this is my date, the CEO of Weiss Kreuz, Inc., Ran Fujimaya."

**************************************

The two men glowered at one another for a long moment before Heero finally spun on his heel and walked away. Neither one had said a syllable or made a move to greet the other. Relena frowned at Heero's back as Ran shrugged and tried to lead her over to one of the casino tables. But the blond VP would not be moved.

"Of all the arrogant jerks I've met…" She stomped off in the direction he had gone.

She caught up with him a few yards away, reaching out to grab his wrist. "You could at least try to be civil."

He whirled around. He had that antagonizingly blank expression on his face that reeked of arrogance and superiority. The one that made Relena want to slap him silly. 

"He's a thief. A white collar criminal. I hope your company enjoys the association."

"He's not a thief. If you had read any of the papers, you'd know that due to Weiss's efforts, the FBI found some crucial evidence involving a money laundering scheme and some pretty shady characters."

"They're still hackers."

"Yeah, and your pride just can't get over the fact that they made you look bad. It doesn't matter what his motives were or are; it doesn't matter how you make anyone else feel. It's always about one thing to you – business."

He turned to walk away.

"Maybe one day you should try caring about someone else. Maybe one day you should try thinking with that part of the human soul often referred to as 'the heart'. You just might feel good about yourself."

He paused in his step before looking back. Dark blue eyes narrowed into a hateful glare. "What's it to you?"

"Nothing." Relena lowered her gaze. "Just consider it some free tax advice. You'll get a bigger deduction at the end of the year."

********************************

He couldn't imagine this night turning out any worse than it had. Not only had he not been able to smooth things over with Relena, he seemed to have only made her angrier with him, if that was possible. Add to that the fact that he'd had to watch his sworn enemy of the industry spend the entire evening in her company, touching her the way he wanted to, dancing with her…. 

The thought made his whole body crave that bitter fluid he had sworn off weeks ago, for the first time since the launch. Which was another entirely irritating and not too enlightening revelation: she had gained such a hold over him that she could make his will power crumble in a few hours. 

_Does she really think I'm that heartless?_

"There he is." A cheerful voice called out from somewhere behind him. 

_And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse._

"Vash. What do you-"

"Hey, boss. We've been looking all over for you."

"Hn." He tried to ignore the blonde tester and his constant, completely annoying exuberance. Van joined them, wearing a darker scowl than usual.

"Heero."  
"Van."

"We've got good news! Did you see that booth when we first walked in? The one with the sign 'Most likely'?"

Heero took a deep breath and counted to ten. "Vash…"

"It's really fun. You nominate someone for a title of what you think they're most likely to do. You remember, like for the year book in high school."

"I'm not in the mood…"

"Well, you were nominated a few hours ago, and they just announced the results of the election."

Heero rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'm ecstatic."

"You haven't even heard what you were elected most likely to do."

"I don't care."

"Vash, just leave it…"

"No, Van, I think he'd be proud. Heero, you've officially been elected Most Likely to Negotiate an Arranged Marriage with the Family Owners of the Romafeller Corporation in your Bid to Take Over the World and Replace Thinking, Feeling Human Beings with Artificially Intelligent Robot Clones."

Heero glared daggers at his spiky-haired friend.

A mischevious grin spread over the tester's features. "The funny part is, I didn't even have to nominate you. Miss Peacecraft did."

_That answers that question._

"Of course we supported you all the way." A small smirk curled up the right corner of Van's mouth.

The blond nodded. "It's just like high school." 

Van shook his head. "Nah, back then, people were afraid of clones. Heero was just voted Most Likely to Take Over the World and Enslave the Ignorant Masses still using Alliance-ware." 

The company president snarled. 

Vash backed away. "Um, gotta go!" He headed back in the direction of the buffet tables. "I swear he gets scarier every day." 

"Oh, don't feel bad, Heero." Van smiled and clapped his friend on the back. "Vash was voted most likely to wear his underwear on the outside of his clothes." 

The software mogul's dangerous expression trailed after the departing members of their group. "He should have been voted most likely to die tonight."

**********************

Vash heard the familiar voice, and looked up, catching a glimpse of her petite figure and dark hair. He set his plate down and hurried up the stairs, taking them two by two. He'd been waiting for this all night.

Vash found her looking beautiful in a long, white satin dress on the top level of the ballroom, watching the festivities and probably taking mental notes. His fingers itched to reach out and stroke the soft fabric. And the tempting thought instantly surfaced of how much he wanted to touch all the silken flesh underneath. 

"Miss Meryl? Please. I really need to speak to you."

The reporter looked up and met his gaze. "I need to talk to you, too."

He led the way out onto the balcony. The lights of the city twinkled and sparkled below them in the clear, wintry night. He saw her shiver as the frosty wind assaulted her exposed shoulders and took off his jacket. In a chivalrous gesture, he draped it over her back.

"Thank you." A smile appeared on her lips.

"You're welcome." He stepped nearer, mesmerized by the way the light glinted in her eyes. An arm slid around her waist and pulled her close.

"Miss Meryl…"

"Vash, there's something I ought to-"

He touched a finger to her lips, and closed his eyes, leaning in to finally-

The heavy curtain snapped open, and a familiar figure stomped into view. He turned and froze. "Vash, what the hell is this?"

The lanky blond recoiled. "Oh, uh, hi, Van! You'll never believe who I just bumped into. Our favorite reporter-girl."

Meryl shoved Vash another step back. "I have a name, and you didn't just bump into me. Vash er…Vash just Vash! I've had enough of this, and enough of you treating me like you don't know me whenever your friends are around!"

She stormed passed the two men and back into the warmth of the ballroom. The door slammed shut behind her.

"Meryl! Meryl, wait! I…. Oooh."

Van crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "You've been cheating. I'm telling Heero."

Vash shrugged. "Go ahead, but then I'll tell him that you've been cheating on the deal with Hitomi."

"I have not!"

"Van, you're a lot of things, but a good liar isn't one of them. Quatre either. The way you two have been staring at those ladies of yours all night speaks volumes. I'd say you're both completely smitten."

Van crossed his arms and looked away. "And what are you with that reporter-girl, Vash?"

"I can say it. I'm in love." Vash blushed. "I think she's the one."

"Oh geez. You're doomed. You might as well hand over your shares of the company, now."

"You know, that might not be such a bad thing, the more I think about it. But I'd hate to give Heero a way out too easily."

"What do you mean?"

"He still has something to learn from this situation." Vash drew closer to the door and peered through the glass. He had a clear view of the mulish software mogul, still standing like an outcast in the far corner of the room - his gaze glued to Relena's more cheerful form.

Van came up beside Vash. "Are you saying he's been cheating, too?"

"Uh-huh. Just follow his eyes."

"What? I don't…"

Vash pointed to Relena as she smiled and shook another guest's hand; her fiery-haired date right beside her. "Look at where his attention's focused. It's the same place it's been focused since their first dinner meeting." He looked at Van. "Believe me, we're not the only ones in inner turmoil over this pact."

Van watched Heero scowl and drain the contents of his soda glass in one gulp. "I never thought I'd see the day when Heero fell in love."

"Kinda funny, dontcha think?" Vash chuckled. "As soon as he swears off of women for three years, he meets the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with."

Van shot him a strange look. "You think he wants to marry her?"

"Van, if there's one thing I've always known about Heero, it's that he's not the type to have superficial relationships. He's never really dated, and he's never going to. The one woman that captures his attention will always be the one. She's the one." He pointed again at PCC's VP.

Van followed Vash's finger. "Huh. Interesting. Think we can get him to call off the bet?"

"No. He's too stubborn, you know that." Vash turned and leaned back against the wall while Van kept his focus on the ballroom.

"You think she'll wait three years for his obstinate ass?"

The blond sighed. "I think she's capable. If he asked and it was for a good reason. But I doubt she'll consider this just cause or anything. You're trying to have your cake and eat it, too."

Van let out a languid breath and moved away from the door. "Heero was right at the time, we needed change. We needed something else in our lives. It's just…"

"It's just that you realize what you were missing isn't what he thought it was." Vash opened the glass door and signaled a nearby waiter. Van followed him inside. 

The server brought a tray of drinks. Vash took two, and handed one to his friend. "Care for a drink?"

Van hesitated, but his hand inched towards the glass. "Are you the devil or an angel?"

Vash smiled down at the shorter man. "Neither. I'm your friend. And I'm standing here next to you, seeing the same, pained expression on your face you had weeks ago in Seattle. This isn't what it's about. Work and studying, wealth and possessions, even intellectual competition isn't what makes you want to be a better man, Van. Is it?"

Van accepted the glass from his friend's hand. "No."

"You want to be a better man for her. Don't you?"

Van stared at the crystalline cup resting in his palm. "Yes."

"Will you be able to leave her and go back to Seattle with just your sports cars and overflowing bank account waiting for you there? Will it be worth it, then?"

His friend didn't reply; he twisted the glass in his hand as his eyes followed Hitomi's movements across the room. Ken Hidaka came up and asked her to dance, and she accepted with a beautiful smile. A dark look overtook Van's features; his jaw set into a hard line. He didn't say a word as the hacker turned recent corporate officer led the object of Van's affections out onto the dance floor, then enveloped her in a loose embrace. 

For a moment, Vash thought his friend might admit defeat – staring as he did at the way the girl chatted brightly in the arms of her dance partner. His whole body seemed to sag in its flesh encasing, like he had just aged a hundred years in a single moment. The glass trembled slightly, knocking the ice up against its side. 

Vash was sure Van was just about to hand back the drink, when she glanced up and met his eyes from over Ken's shoulder on the dance floor. She smiled, and the black look evaporated from Van's features.

_"What a woman, indeed, that can turn my friend's sour look into a smile."_

Before he could finish marveling at Van's transformation, the GLLC marketing exec had downed the drink in a single gulp and handed the empty glass back to Vash. A wide grin erupted on the face of the blond man and he clapped his friend heartily on the shoulder. "Shall we have another?"

Van shook his head and squared his shoulders. "No, I want her." He took a step forward, something like determination glinting in his eyes.

Vash grabbed his arm. "Uh…well, we can talk about it over another drink, right? How you're going to get her back…"

Van shrugged him off. "I don't think so." He continued towards the dance floor, one object in his sights, and the scent of danger in the air.


End file.
